Invictus - The Wrath of the Arcani
by Kanuro5
Summary: 81 BC. A Dictator has taken control of Rome and the Three Families follow him. In the shadows of the Republic, a secret society strikes out against all those in power who have wronged them. Now, a young Legate from the Julii must embark on a quest to destroy this insidious threat before their blades reach the heart of the Roman Republic. Sequel to "Invictus - Rome: Total War".
1. Victorious

**Note from Kanuro5:** Hello everyone, feels good to get another RTW story up on this site! I promised I would write a sequel to "Invictus" and I have several stories in my mind from different factions that I want to begin to write. And by the way, let me say this now:

This fanfic is completely FICTIONAL, meaning it will **not** be following the events of Ancient Rome in the real world exactly how it happened. If you want to think of this, think of it like an alternate universe, that's what the Total War games are in a nutshell. Alternate Universes of history in which you decide who rules. I'm trying to keep it as historically accurate as possible. Somethings will run parallel in the story similar to how it did in real life, but not much. Also, there will be **some** historical characters showing up, but it will not be many. And I must say, this is a story where the men of the First Triumvirate do **NOT** exist. Gaius Julius Caesar, Marcus Crassus, and Pompey Magnus do not exist within this story. Though they were alive during this time, in this story they do not exist. I only say this because I KNOW I'll be asked this a bunch of times, like I had in my previous story.

Also, you do not necessarily need to read the previous story to understand this one. I mean... of course it would help, but you will be able to follow along well enough to hopefully enjoy this. Here we go, please enjoy!

* * *

 **The year is 81 B.C. and the Roman Republic has fallen into a dictatorship. Rome had been engaged in a bloody civil war between the factions of the Senate, in which Lucius Cornelius Sulla has emerged victor. With no other senator to oppose him and the Three Great Families behind him, Sulla was named Dictator of the entire Republic.**

 **Two days into Sulla's new dictatorship, the Germanic tribe of the Suebi—led by the fierce warlord, Odavacar—crossed the Rhine River of Germania and launched an invasion of the Roman province of Lugdinensis in Eastern Gallia with 30,000 Germanians, sacking the Roman city of Lugdunum. With their province attacked, the House of the Julii sent eight legions to deal with the Invasion. Four legions led by the experienced General Quintus Sertorius, three legions led by Aulus Oppius, and a single legion led by the young general Vitus Julius Germanicus. The three generals have been fighting the Germanians for ten months and have pushed the invasion force back to the banks of the Rhine. Only one decisive battle remains before the Romans push the Germanians back across the Rhine.**

 **I**

 **Victorious  
**

Sunrise had come on the forests of Germania. The orange-purple sky shone on the blood-drench dirt, the air was heavy with the clanging of swords and grunts of anger as Roman cavalry had launched an ambush against a contingent of Germanian cavalry. The fatigued Germanians had galloped furiously down the trail with woods on both sides, it was then when the Romans came from the edge of the forest and assaulted their flank.

Once the surprise ebbed away, most of the combatants had dismounted and were caught in a furious engagement. It was one hundred barbarians against one hundred Romans, yet the skirmish was in favor of the more individually stronger barbarians whose brute strength and ferocity carried most of the fight, especially from their leader who had already sent dozens of Romans to the afterlife.

The warlord of the Suebi, Odavacar, stood tall and fierce, drenched in the blood of his enemies from head-to-toe. His ambition was as bountiful as his strength, he saw the chance that few Germanians ever recognized and chose to attack the Romans when their minds were occupied within their own war. He was brown of hair that flowed to his shoulders and wore a topknot on his head, he had a bushy beard, and a canvas of scars on his body; a staple of most barbarous Germanians. He was armed with an axe and shield and used them both to furious effect against all the Romans who came at him.

He lopped off the head of a Roman soldier in quick stroke and watched the as the dirt drank the blood from the man's open neck. He then buried his axe through the skull of a Roman assailant, gruesomely splitting his face at the nose, and kicked the dying man to the ground. He spun around when he heard another soldier willing to test his luck, and cleaved the axe through his throat. The Germanian grunted in satisfaction as he heard the Roman gurgling hard as his escaping blood dyed his flesh red.

Another Roman came running at him from the front, Odavacar blocked his attack with his shield and swung his axe through the soldier's knee, splintering bone and flesh. The Roman fell to the ground screaming, clutching his dangling leg as blood shot through his interlocked fingers. The soldier was convulsing and whimpering through his teeth in agony and only stopped once he saw the warlord standing over him.

"Mercy! Mercy! I beg of you!" the soldier pleaded frantically in Latin.

Odavacar did not know the Roman tongue, nor cared to learn. But the body language of a craven was universal.

Odavacar spat at the shaking man, and sneered in Germanian, " _You pathetic dog._ " And buried his axe thrice into the Roman soldier's chest.

He exhaled as the fighting around him died down. The several of the Roman horsemen climbed upon their horses and fled from the skirmish as the barbarians finished off the rest, standing victorious in this skirmish. Yet at what cost? This was the third ambush that he and his tribesmen fell into by Roman cavalry and auxiliary forces.

One of his men was bleeding from his scalp but walked behind Odavacar undeterred, " _We have slain the last Roman. We need to move before more descend on us_."

The Suebi warlord turned to the man, " _How many men_?"

" _Odavacar, we need_ —"

" _How many_?!"

" _Half our men our dead. We have around twenty men that are wounded, fifteen of them… they shall not see the end of the day_."

" _So the wounds' from the other five are not serious… prop them on horses. Those who are gravely wounded, we cannot take them with us, leave them here or give them a swift mercy_."

" _A-At once, Odavacar_."

Odavacar slouched over and exhaled, the back of his eyes were buzzing from fatigue, he was enduring a migraine, and his legs felt as heavy as lead. But he quickly righted himself and carried on. There was no time to rest, not with the Romans everywhere. He gasped suddenly as he just realized he had time to think. It was an honest shock to him. He could not believe that after six hours of straight fighting, he had time to think and recollect just what went wrong and how did three Roman legions surround his camp.

He had to think back to what had happened six hours ago. From what he could recall, it was the dead of night and he was sound asleep within their camp. The Romans were about forty miles away from Odavacar's army of 10,000 men, and his Suebi warriors had just scored a great victory against the Marcomanni, a Germanic tribe who allied themselves with Rome. The victorious Suebi drank and partied and slept comfortably. He then remembered he awoke to frantic screaming and an entire section of the camp was ablaze with mountainous fire. Their own horses broke free of their reins and were running amok and trampling the confused and dazed, several of them were on fire. Amid the screaming men were inhuman squeals that he could not determine the origin of. Then the only sound that was discernable had just broken into the night; the mighty sound of Roman trumpets. And then as he fetched his weapons and tried to reorganize a defense, the Romans had somehow set upon them from three sides of their camp. Banners of Sertorius, Oppius, and Germanicus were illuminated by the flames, he even got close to fighting Germanicus but was beaten back. With the fighting looking grim, many Germanians decided to retreat. He had to ensure an exit for his army, so he and his men found the remaining horses and galloped to the rear and fought off the Roman infantry long enough for at least a hundred men to escape. After the hundredth man retreated, the Roman cavalry descended on them and chased Odavacar's cavalry into the forest where they spent about six hours escaping ambushes.

Odavacar shook his head as his recollection finished. He was incredulous that all of this had befallen him within the span of a single night. So many good men dead, so many of them drinking in Woden's Great Mead Hall. It baffled Odavacar's mind, just yesterday the Romans were 40 miles away at last count; just how did they catch them within the space of a single night?

He then recalled the last rallying point that the Suebi agreed to meet up if the Romans had reclaimed all of their former territory.

" _Mount your horses_!" Odavacar yelled.

" _What has happened_?"

Odavacar hopped onto his horse, " _We are moving back to the Rhine, with haste_!"

Fifty Germanians mounted upon their horses and galloped away from the woods of death back to their original rallying point. It took them ten minutes of steady riding until they spotted the incline of a small hill and the sound of rushing water behind the small the hill. They made their way up the incline and rushed down the opposite decline. Before them was the vast Rhine River, bending vastly up from the north and stretching singularly down the south. And on the long riverbanks, his remaining cavalry galloped to the first Roman fort they had taken at the start of the invasion—the only portion of territory they had left. The Roman fort was abysmal. Hard battles in and around it have brought two of its four walls to utter ruin. It stood about a hundred yards from the Rhine River and was meant to stand vigil over any Germanians who dared crossed it.

The warlord still recalled how he and his men crossed the river ten months ago. Under the cover of darkness and a raging storm, Odavacar led 200 men across the Rhine on small boats with muffled oars. The wind and rain were howling so hard that most of the Romans who usually stood sentry on the top of the fort retreated back inside. They figured that nothing ever happened in this sector and nothing ever will. Romans and their indolence, it disgusted Odavacar that they were conquering the world. The storm drowned a good number of his men, but they braved the wild weather and made it ashore, and slaughtered the lazy Romans inside their fort. After that, the invasion began in earnest as hundreds of Suebi began sailing across the river in force for two days until the Romans took notice.

Around the fort were the remnants of his once mighty warhost. It seemed to him around 700 of his men had survived the night attack and retreated back to the riverbank. His heart filled with fury at the sight, 700 of 10,000. Several of them were wounded and winded from the exhaustive fighting, others tried to operate on the wounded warriors in desperate bids to save their lives—those screams of theirs were dreadful and those around them were seemingly losing heart because of such. He was quite fortunate to see the remainder of his light cavalry had fallen back after the attack, now bringing their horses against the river to take precious drink and recover their stamina.

He stopped his cavalry by the desolated fort and had several men take care of his horses as he walked by the fortification. Passing by the ruined walls, he overheard voices of anger and loud whimpering. His eyes took notice of his men viciously beating a Roman man near death as Roman women in filthy rags and torn fabric cowered in the corner and cried. No, this Roman wasn't a soldier taken prisoner, but a weak farmer whose lands the Suebi razed and whose people they captured for their own gain. After all, Rome had taken his own people prisoners, why could he not do it to them? The men were to be offered as sacrifice to All Mighty Woden, the women to warm their tents at night, the children—it was difficult to decide upon their fate, either they shall fall before the sword, or perhaps they can be raised as slaves, what delicious irony. His warriors were beating their frustration and anger out on the men, he looked past some of them and bore witness to some of his men dragging off a screaming woman by the hair to a "quieter" place. He hoped they all would find relief whatever way they could after the demoralizing night ambush.

" _Odavacar_!" it came from his friend and trusted commander who ran to him, his arm was bandaged yet blood was still pouring from the wound.

" _Lokug_!" he said in surprise. " _Are you alright_?"

" _I am, Odavacar. I was fortunate, others were not. But Donar be praised that you survived! We thought you lost_."

" _It'll take more than Romans to fucking kill me."_ He looked around _, "The men look pitiful, if only we had some fresh men_."

" _But we do_."

" _What? How many men have reinforced us_?"

" _Around two hundred men of the Warband, Odavacar. They came just a moment ago before you arrived_."

He noticed that their boats were simple and small and shored up on the bank, large enough to only fit six people inside. They were of different stock than the men who fought bitterly last night. They were still clean and eager, shouting for the ones who fought to not look so dismayed. Nor did they have the bloodshot eyes of the ones who fought tirelessly for an entire night. Odavacar could use them.

" _Thank the Gods. Lokug, what happened to you? I was surrounded by Romans and I cannot recall thoroughly how this came to pass. Can you recall what happened_?"

Lokug swallowed hard and shook his head solemnly, " _I can. I recall night descending, we were joyous for defeating the Marcomanni in battle. We drank and reveled, then slept. Several others fucked the captured Roman women bloody. Then chaos enveloped us all. As the moon was in its highest peak, I heard the cry of horses and the galloping of their hooves as they ran within the camp. We believe the Romans sent infiltrators into the night and severed the tethers of our horses. We then heard squealing, horrid squealing, as if newborns were being tortured. We then smelled the burning stench of fat, then a fire broke out within the camp and so did our tents of furs. I saw it. They used flaming pigs against us, Odavacar._ "

Odavacar's face scrunched, " _The Romans sent in pigs, and lit them on fire_?"

" _They did, I've witness Aulus Oppius use them before. They burn pigs and send them running straight at the enemy. Such swine are already quick enough, but imagine how quick they are when they are alight and are screaming at you_ …"

The warlord gnashed his teeth. " _Go on_ …"

" _Then came the horns and the banners of all three generals, I thought they were far away from us, that we were safe. But to close such a distance in a night_?"

Odavacar clenched his eyes in bitter realization. " _Those fucking Romans… they knew we would be exhausted and they commenced with a forced march and marched all night long. Fuck!_ " He should have realized this. All that the Romans **ever** do was march.

Lokug continued, " _Romans were fucking everywhere and many men were killed. The slaughtering of swine had more dignity than what they inflicted on us. In near every corner was those red shield walls of theirs. I saw the banner of a bull facing east and a horse facing west and knew it was Sertorius. I spotted an opening and took most of our best warriors to engage with Sertorius' soldiers while we tried to evacuate everyone else. Those were true warriors, and died valiantly for us to live. We fought our way out and ran for the forest, then I recalled the damaged Roman fort here and brought the remainder back here to rest_."

" _All those warriors of the Suebi, ten thousand men in that camp_ …"

" _Gone, Odavacar. Those three Roman generals saw to that. Yet before we left the monstrous ambush, I gazed upon that boy fucker, Aulus Oppius' banners, and his soldiers ran and flanked our rout. These men of two hundred along I were the only ones to escape, out of a possible five hundred that made the rout with us_."

Odavacar was stunned, " _This is all that remains of our army? What of our cavalry_?"

" _Most of them lie dead_."

" _The doing of Sertorius? Oppius_?"

Lokug shook his head, " _No, Germanicus_."

Odavacar could barely contain his wrath, " _Him_?"

" _Yes. As I led the remainder back here, I then gathered what horsemen I could and we rallied to the retreaters in the valley to rescue any survivors and fend off the Romans. But we were set upon, by the Twenty-Eighth_ …"

" _No, impossible. How did they— I fought them in that attack! I saw Germanicus' banners_!"

" _His infantry most like, we were assaulted by cavalry of the Twenty-Eighth and the Marcomanni. I saw the armor of their dead, it was the Twenty-Eighth_."

" _Fuck! How long ago was that_?"

" _Not even an hour ago_."

" _Then they are coming at us as we speak_?"

" _Yes_."

Odavacar spat in irritation, " _Have you followed my orders_?"

" _Yes, I've sent Dovon and his men to assault them. Last I saw, they couldn't hold the Roman cavalry but they are buying time against the infantry but I fear they may be lost. We must cross the river. Odavacar… this is our predicament. Last I glanced, Sertorius and Oppius are busy finishing off the rest of our army. Yet Germanicus is pursuing us with his legion and his cavalry may arrive at any moment. Odavacar, we must regroup across the river. Most of our men are exhausted and demoralized, the two hundred fresh warriors are no match for his legionaries. Our back is to the river, the fort's walls are destroyed. We must take these boats across the river to safety! We must go_!"

 _No, it cannot end like this_ … Odavacar had thought. Everything that he had done had now ended in defeat. All the momentum that he gained at the beginning of the year had utterly been decimated by the Might of Rome. And he should return with his tail tucked like a beaten dog? Him?!

" _What should we do with the Roman prisoners_?" Lokug asked.

" _How many are they_?"

" _Around 80, Odavacar. Most of them are women_."

" _Kill them all and mount their heads upon the broken walls of that fort. We take our stand at the fort, let those fucking Romans know that I am not defeated_!"

" _But Oda_ —"

" _No! We are no cravens_!" he growled. " _We are the Suebi and we shall meet_ _ **any**_ _threat with our weapons head-on!_ "

" _Rider_!" someone yelled out. All heads turned to the screamer, " _From the west! A rider! A Roman_!"

Over the western incline, stood a rider on top of a massive and majestic black stallion. He wore a solid black helmet in-laid with a gold pattern and had a crimson-feathered crest on top the helmet, signifying his status as a Roman officer of the highest rank. As his black stallion veered from side-to-side, his cape of the most exquisite crimson draped down his back, almost regally, and blew against the breeze from the riverbank. Another horse rode from behind the rider, bearing the crimson banner that was etched upon it, " _XXVIII_ " and under the number was a dead boar and bull whose stiff legs were pointed up in the air.

The Germanians mumbled amongst themselves, several tried to hide the subtle fear in their voice. Odavacar only sneered at the sight of that Roman, and angrily uttered his name, " _Germanicus…"_

This was his third time seeing this Roman general. The first time was four months ago, when Odavacar believed that his army could match up with the Romans on an open field; he was sorely mistaken. On the opposite side of the field stood the Roman army in disciplined formation, with Sertorius leading the battle in the center flank and commanding the opening move of the engagement. During the battle, Odavacar commanded his axmen to batter the Roman left flank and charged with his men into the assault. Yet they were stopped by the Twenty-Eighth Legion and it's Legatus who was on foot with the rest of his men and slaying Germanians left-and-right, coated in Germanic blood. He saw this man and was told later that he led the Twenty-Eighth and was son of the legendary Roman General, Lucius Julius Magnus, the Victor of the Battle of Praxus Hill.

The second time was just mere hours ago, when all three generals attacked his army in the dead of night at once. Everything was in flames and such illuminated most of the night. As the Twenty-Eighth marched in, the Suebi warlord bore witness to their standard and eagle, and by it the Legatus sitting tall on his black stallion. Odavacar formed up with twenty men and charged at the Legatus. He was close but was stopped by the Roman's bodyguards and had to retreat to save his rear from being cutoff. But within the fighting, Germanicus had lost his helmet and his face was revealed, only to infuriate the barbarian warlord more. Germanicus was slightly shorter than the average man and was rather thin with auburn hair, clean-shaven like all Romans were, and he had several scars on his face and yet it was rounded in youth—he couldn't have even passed the age of twenty yet. And he wasn't completely sure, but within the illumination of fire, it seemed to Odavacar as if Germanicus' had different color eyes—one blue and the other green. But he was one of the few Roman generals that Odavacar witnessed or heard of that could fight as a great warrior. But what he hated most about Germanicus was his name. He had heard from others that the Romans arrogantly bestowed new names on their generals if they have been victorious over a particular people in war. And this Roman, who had been at war with him for nearly a year, personally slew scores of Germanians and won critical engagements with his single legion, that his own men and clan distinguished him "Germanicus"—a sign of Odavacar's defeats at the hands of this Roman boy.

Behind the Roman Legate, cavalrymen began to emerge on the rise after him. They kept coming upon the incline and took to a neat square formation at the rear of Germanicus. About forty cavalrymen of Rome took position, their armor and horses coated in blood and dirt, their eyes hungry to finish off these Germanians. These men were of the Auxilia—the auxiliary forces of the legion that consisted of non-Romans. These horsemen were the General's bodyguards, sworn to protect Germanicus from any harm. They came from the lands of Thrace and were of the Getae tribe, they had simply served his father for many years when he once led the Twenty-Eighth; but now these Thracians served Germanicus loyally. The Captain of these bodyguards galloped behind his General, he was red of hair, quite built, and a veteran of many engagements, his name was Ligadis.

Another force of cavalry gathered on the peak of the incline, opposite to the Roman Auxilia. They were no Romans but were the Marcomanni cavalry numbering around 50 of them, Odavacar gnashed his teeth at their sight. Traitors, the whole damn lot of them. The tribe of the Marcomanni had never been friends to the tribe of the Suebi, but they all shared Germanic blood. And years ago, they swore vassalage to Rome in order to be protected against their rival tribes. To cross your own blood for the safety of foreign invaders, they could never be considered _true_ Germanians again.

Ligadis said to his leader, "Legatus, our infantry is advancing on the rear, they should be here within minutes."

The Roman General looked down at the hundreds of Germanians down the decline and believed he spotted the warlord who started it all. "Good. In the meanwhile, we must stop the Suebi from retreating back across the river with this many men. If they do, they may yet launch another attack on Roman soil! Ligadis, we need to end this now."

The bodyguard nodded confidently. "I am of the same accord, Legatus."

Germanicus raised his bloody blade high in the air and shouted behind him, "Cavalry! There skulks Odavacar, nearly an entire year at war with his raiders, and there is the final remnant. And he seeks to escape to fight another day. We must deny him this and strike him from this world. Thracians, on me! We move to the right! Marcomanni, take the left! This blighted Suebi Invasion ends this day! Follow me! CHARGE!"

His black stallion reared and galloped as he screamed, his loyal warriors following as well.

" _The Romans come! Take positions! Defend the riverbank_!" Odavacar bellowed.

The fresh reserves quickly sprang into action, fetching their weapons and spears and forming up defensive positions around the desolated camp. The warlord turned to his remaining horsemen, the Roman Auxilia had 40 horses whilst the Marcomanni possessed 50. He had around 150 horses of the light cavalry, he could easily crush him for good and all. " _There is Germanicus! Kill him! Kill their general! Cavalry, kill that bastard!_ "

The Germanian light cavalrymen nodded and with a guttural grunt, charged against the Romans, kicking off clouds of dust in their trail. Several of his own men rushed up behind Odavacar and Lokug to provide counsel.

" _Odavacar, that was the last of our cavalry_!" one of his men said.

" _It matters not. They already have us at the riverbank, we need to use the horses here to breakout. In the meanwhile, put the wounded on ships and evacuate them across the river._ "

" _Odavacar, this invasion is lost_ ," shouted another man, " _You must retreat back across the river_!"

Fury encompassed the barbarian warlord, and he spun around and smacked the interloper who uttered that damnable plea. " _I shall never retreat, I shall stay and see the end of that Roman!_ "

The two forces of cavalry were beginning to converge on one another. A hundred light cavalry horsemen on the right flank against the 40 heavy Roman Auxilia cavalry, and the 50 horsemen of the Marcomanni against the 50 horsemen of the Suebi on the left flank. But Germanicus was not perturbed; he simply gritted his teeth and made a quick prayer to Mars within his mind. These men had ravaged the lands of Rome and abducted many innocent Romans, they need to be quelled by whatever was necessary. Germanicus waved his sword in the air in a triangle, shouting back to his men, "Wedge formation! We shall punch through them!"

The heavy cavalry of Rome shifted from an unorganized line to a tight triangular formation, and Germanicus formed the very tip. He gripped the reins of his horse tightly and brought his _gladius_ over his head and gave a fiery war cry. _Mars, Mother Venus, watch over me in this endeavor…_

Both Roman and Germanian cavalry crashed into one another with thunderous impact. Horses whinnied as they toppled over one another, men plummeted to the dirt as their mounts fell under them, blood soared in the air as throats were slashed, torsos pierced, limbs were lobbed off, and heads fell into the wind. Men cried out as spears ripped into their insides and when their own horses fell on top of them. But the heavier and more armored Roman cavalry were slowly breaking through the lighter barbarian horsemen.

A horseman came galloping at the Roman leader, intent on striking this famed Roman down; but Germanicus was quicker and shoved his sword through the Germanian's Adam's apple. His eyes nearly bulged out in pain as he tried in futility to gasp for air; despite the length of the blade already being through his neck. Germanicus retracted his sword and watched as thick blackened blood leaked copiously from the barbarian's throat. He turned sideways in his saddle and hacked off the arm of a horseman. He turned to his left and lunged his blade into the heart of an unarmored rider. He pulled out his blood-drenched sword and sliced open another rider's stomach, the man fell off his horse screaming, clasping his entrails until the mass of horses trampled him out of his misery. It was rather straightforward scoring fatal blows on men who wore no armor. Germanicus ordered his men, "Push forward! Push to the banks!" He kicked his stallion and it dashed through the light cavalry, leading the way for the remaining auxiliary.

" _Our cavalry is faltering against the Romans!_ " Lokug announced.

" _I know!_ " Odavacar sneered.

On the left flank with the Marcomanni, the Suebi were more evenly matched against them than they were with the Romans. But the Marcomanni tribe was still holding on with brutal ferocity, if they kept at it, mostly like both cavalry units would be wiped out with only a single man standing on either side.

The Germanic light infantry consisting of spearmen, axmen, and naked fanatics armed with sword and shield, were nicely positioned in the middle of the line. With blood and gore wafting in the air, the light infantry—without orders—impetuously charged up through the center of the field and began hitting the flanks of the Roman and Marcomanni cavalry.

" _What are they doing? I did not give them command to attack?!_ " Odavacar raged.

" _Such might be, yet look,_ " said one of his men, _"They are pressing hard against the cavalry. Look!_ "

Odavacar did take note of it. The spearmen rushed over to the Marcomanni cavalry and began shoving their spears into the flesh of their cavalry, toppling the horses and sending their riders to the dirt where they were speared repeatedly. The riders were suddenly surrounded by an arena of sharp spearheads which opened vast amount of wounds on their bodies if they were not killed outright. It may be true that they were scoring kills against the cavalry, but it still infuriated Odavacar that they could not stay into position and wait for orders.

The Germanian infantry turned on the Roman Auxilia with eagerness to slay their hated enemy. Yet the Thracian bodyguards were armed with large shields and had some protection against the plethora of spears that their Marcomanni counterparts lacked. Germanicus brought down his _gladius_ on the neck of a Germanian spearman, slicing it apart. He moved to the opposite side of his horse and cleaved through the throat of a swordsman that rushed at him. A spearman brought his weapon and stabbed into Germanicus' mount. The stallion whinnied in agony, and for the briefest of moments, Germanicus' thoughts left the battle and lay unto his prized horse. The black stallion's name was "Romulus" after the founder of Rome—and a birthday prize from Germanicus' late father. Germanicus seethed with rage and brought his sword down with such fury that it cleaved the spearman's head in twain. Just then, an opportunistic Germanian picked up a discard pike and aimed it high and thrusted at the distracted Germanicus, only to be cut down by the Roman's Thracian bodyguard captain, Ligadis. Ligadis brought his spear down on top of a footman's and he watched as the spearhead entered his bare chest.

"Legatus, we need to pull back, there's too many spears and we cannot move!" Ligadis warned.

"No, we stay, we keep these barbarians contained and preoccupied!" Germanicus answered back. "Trust me in this! We can hold on, do not break!"

The infantry were now beginning to swarm the cavalry on nearly all sides. If this kept up for a few more minutes, then Odavacar could rest easy knowing that he sent a Roman general to the afterlife. Yet what he didn't understand was why Germanicus immediately split up his cavalry to attack both of his flanks? With Odavacar's light infantry in the center, they could swarm the Roman horses. He should have seen that coming, so what was that Roman possibly thinking…?

 _Ba-Ba-Bum, Ba-Ba-Buuuuum-Ba-Bummmm_

Odavacar recognized the blaring horns.

 _No,_ he thought, _They couldn't have broken through already!_

Over the rise, through the din of battle; Odavacar spotted the soldiers of the Legion, nearly a thousand strong, all armored and carrying their sturdy rectangular shields, and marching with purpose. Each step they took was in a disciplined cadence, not one foot was offbeat.

"Legatus!" cried Ligadis, " _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus has brought up the First and Second Cohort!"

Germanicus looked back and smirked, "Good man, that Aelianus. Ride back to him and tell him that we have the flanks secured, bring up the infantry right down the center. We have opened up some gaps in the line. Tell him not to stop. Keep advancing no matter what! He needs to push the bastards right back to the river!"

The bodyguard nodded and galloped on back to deliver the message to the approaching heavy infantry. Ligadis spotted the man he needed, the most senior centurion within the Twenty-Eighth Legion and the commander of the First Cohort, _Primus Pilus_ Gaius Aelianus—often heralded to be the mightiest soldier in the entire legion, even better than his Legatus, Germanicus.

Aelianus looked to the Captain of the Guard, "Ligadis, give report!"

"The Legatus orders to bring the men down the center and push the Germanians back to the river. He has the flanks secure. Keep advancing, do not hold ground. Keep advancing! We must crush them now!"

"Understood." And like that, the Thracian ran back to his master.

The Germanian infantry, infuriated with the losses they suffered today, recklessly charged at the Roman rank-and-file in front of them in the center of the field. Odavacar was shouting for them to charging up and engage the legionaries. Yet none of them paid attention to how exposed their line was.

Aelianus raised his sword high in the air and his whistle in his teeth. "Infantry, halt!" He blew his whistle loud.

All the men grunted in acknowledgement and stopped as one, their shields and swords at rest by their sides.

"Shields!"

As a singular machine, the legionaries brought their large shields in front of them.

"Pilum, at the ready!"

Each man sheathed their swords and grabbed their _pila_ —javelins about two meters long that were the first step in a Roman infantry attack or defense to disrupt the enemy's formation. Every Roman on the line raised their pila over their heads and took careful aim at the incoming infantry. Aelianus stepped out of formation and walked five paces forward where all the legionaries could witness him. Because of his rank as _Primus Pilus_ , he was to be the first Roman to throw his pilum and then the rest of the line would follow suit.

He shouted, "Take aim! And…" The Germanians were screaming their lungs out as they charged, some even drooling with murderous eyes as they began to close the distance. About five hundred of them were charging into the wall of the greatest killing machine in the world. Dis would receive so many fresh souls in his domain, Aelianus was sure of it.

"LOOSE!"

Aelianus chucked his pilum at the foremost Germanian that was about 25 meters away. The steel tip entered through the barbarian's bare chest with ease, and the entire shaft of the pilum came out through the back of the man, viciously jerking the warrior several feet back with a squeal.

The soldiers heaved their pila at the incoming Germanians, the spears penetrated their flesh and eviscerated their entrails, and many fell in tides. Those that did not die instantly fell to the dirt screaming; clutching the protruding javelin that was stuck in their stomachs, chests, arms, or legs. Several of the Germanians were able to block the pila with their shields, which now remained stuck within their protection. They chose to discard their ruined shields and continued charging, while others tried to pick up the used pila against the Romans, but realized the thrown javelins were already bent.

Aelianus glared at the charging, yet disorganized barbarians. He unsheathed his _gladius_ and held it in the air, "Twenty-Eighth, advance!"

The legionaries moved at a trot and then down at a charge, yet in a tight disciplined formation, shoulder-to-shoulder and shield-to-shield. Their only thoughts were unison—kill many, yet fight as one. Their swords were over their heads and they let out a cry. The Germanians rushed forward, exaltation in death being their reward they sought; they shoved each other out of the way, their ranks were separated, savagely loose, their only thoughts for personal glory.

The two sides collided with one another, flesh and bone crashing against shields. Profanity ruled the air. The Germanians began to recklessly throw themselves against the Roman shields, hack away relentlessly at their defenses, bringing down their axes, swords, and daggers with all their strength. Yet the Romans stood their ground and hid behind their solid defense and absorbed the blows, and counterattacked upon each opening—with surgical precision.

They were trained to—no; they were **disciplined** to stab the enemies in their exposed torsos—virtually ensuring a fatal wound with every stab. Their _gladii_ would enter the unprotected bellies of the barbarians and rip out their crimson innards unto the dirt. A quick move with their steel swords; a lunge into the flesh, and the retraction from the flesh. The enemy would stop at the lunge, scream upon the retraction, and fall to the earth in defeat. But if the enemy would dodge or use their shields, then the legionary would find other targets to stab such as the often forgotten lower body. Thighs, kneecaps, the groin, and occasionally the feet were all fair pickings for the Roman death machine, for in the thick of the battle you do not fight for honor—you fight to survive.

A large axman brought his axe down on Aelianus who fell to his knee and raised his shield over his head and lunged his sword into the unprotected belly of the barbarian, in a single fluid movement. Another axman swung his one-handed weapon horizontally, trying to decapitate the First Centurion; but the man raised his shield high and blocked it, then thrusted his _gladius_ into the man's heart with a bestial grunt. A swordsman tried his luck and took wild swings, but the _Primus Pilus_ blocked the sword against the rim of his shield, did a quick spin and decapitated the barbarian in a single stroke. After that move, he could see into the eyes of the barbarians in front of him. Fear was rising.

"Men, they begin to falter! Give them 'The Chanting Cerberus'! Advance!" Aelianus called, and then he blew his whistle twice.

As one, the front ranks dipped low and pushed off their shields, sending the barbarians jumping backwards from the force. Within every two steps, the legionaries would repeatedly chant "Ha-Oh!" with a deep bass from their guts. The back ranks of the formation would chant loudly and pound the pommels of their swords against their shields in rhythm, creating a disturbing metallic echo to anyone in front of them. The front rank of legionaries would push their shields forward with a single advancing step and lunge as one, scoring dozens of kills at once; then pick up the shield and advance and then repeat. To the barbarians—the clang from the shields was deafening, the soldier's chanting was haunting, and their slow armored advance that was unstoppable was utterly horrifying. The legionaries were chanting words of encouragements to their comrades.

"Push them back! Push them back!"

"Keep at it! Do not let up!"

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

"Twenty-Eighth!"

" **Twenty-Eighth!** " they all bellowed.

Each step they took, they push their shields forward and stabbed their enemies. One of the barbarians seized a legionary by the shield and pulled it away from the Roman. The exposed Roman recoiled back, but his comrades to his left and right plunged their swords into his attacker's chest. Teamwork such as this was common in battle, their training and camaraderie pushed them to the pinnacle of excellence in the field of battle. With brotherhood under the banners, they could triumph over all who came at them. A fact that the Germanians were quickly realizing.

Odavacar was hollering for his warriors to kill the soldiers, and could not understand how they were faltering and being pushed back. Slowly, one-by-one, the Germanians were breaking and running back. The number began to increase steadily and from the back ranks of the Germanian line, a full-on rout was in process as the oblivious front rank were still brutally engaged with the legionaries. He couldn't believe it; he wished it was a nightmare that he could wake up from. But alas, he was bearing witness to his own men retreating; even when they had nowhere to properly retreat to.

"They retreat!" announced a legionary.

Another laughed, "Look at them run!"

"Advance, we end this invasion today! Keep formation, double-time!" Aelianus blew his whistle twice with a sharp pitch and the centuries who were not engaged with a barbarian began to charge after the fleeing foes in a disciplined fashion.

* * *

By the glorious Mars, he was proud of his men. They had done it. Germanicus had fought these barbarians since he was sixteen and he knew that they held no discipline. If he positioned his cavalry at the wings of the line, then the infantry at the center would inevitably follow them, and thus lose cohesion in the center of the line. And his glorious First and Second Cohort had just broken the Germanic center, all according to plan. They all had to force march for an entire night, ambush an army of 10,000 barbarians in the dark, continually fight for six hours, and now they're crushing the last pocket of resistance of the Suebi. He was so proud of these men.

Now all that was needed to do was to break their flanks and annihilate the remnant that fought back. Those barbarians that surrendered must be captured. It would encourage the other surviving pockets of resistance that the invasion had failed; in addition, if the Germanians knew they would be slaughtered upon surrendering honorably, then they would simply fight twice as hard. And with several barbarians fleeing, a rout was ensured to occur.

A horseman swung wildly to decapitate Germanicus, yet the young general dipped out of the way of the swing and simply stabbed the horseman in the chest and off his horse. To his left he saw another Germanian charging at him with a lance set to gore his heart. With his stallion trapped between the chaos around him of compact infantry and fleeing men, Germanicus couldn't move. But a vigilant bodyguard spotted his general's plight and cast his spear at the barbarian horseman. The spear entered his chest at the nipple and the spearhead exited through his spine. The sudden jolt of the thrown spear sent the Germanian crashing off his horse. Yet the riderless horse was still galloping at Germanicus at full speed. The horse slammed into his', and the Roman Legate tumbled to the dirt along with his horse.

Germanicus fell onto a crowd of barbarians and brought four of them down as he rolled on the ground, his plumed-crest helmet fell from his head. He sprang to his feet and was immediately engaged by a dual-wielding axman who swung wildly at him. Germanicus gritted his teeth and swatted the incoming axes away. After the axman threw a wild swing, Germanicus ducked the attack and spun out of it. In the spin, he slashed the back of his assailant's leg and sent his foe down to bended knee, allowing Germanicus to drive his sword through the barbarian's collarbone. As he drew his crimson blade from the man's body, an unarmed Germanian came out from his peripheral vision and punched the Legatus to the ground and began to strangle him.

The beefy hands were tightening around his throat, he could feel the blood rushing to his head and tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. His sword fell out of his grasp as he hit the ground, so Germanicus reached behind his back and drew a hidden dagger strapped to the back of his waist. The dagger was specially crafted to Germanicus' need. It was a _pugio_ , the standard issue double-edge dagger to the Roman army. The iron pommel and grip of the dagger was forged into an eagle's head and its feathered neck respectively, silver in coloring. With it, Germanicus shanked the choker right through his jugular. The choker gasped as blood squirted from his neck, and with a grunt, Germanicus pushed him off.

Germanicus rose to his feet, but no rest came for him as two Germanian axmen came charging at him. With only a dagger in his hand and no time to fetch his _gladius_ , Germanicus muttered a curse and readied himself against the onslaught.

The first axman came at him and swung his weapon horizontally, causing the Roman to dip backwards, the axe cleaving the air mere inches from the Roman's nose. He then lunged forward and shoved his dagger through the bottom of the axman's mouth and straight through his brain. The second axman charged forth behind the first and brought his axe down on top of Germanicus. Yet with his dagger still in the first barbarian's head, Germanicus moved the dead barbarian in the way of the second axman's weapon, which splintered through the dead man's cranium and was stuck. The Roman Legate yanked the dagger from the bottom of the jaw and dipped to his left, and shoved his dagger deep through the second barbarian's eye.

With his two attackers dead, Germanicus frantically searched for his sword in the bloodshed surrounding him. Underneath a corpse, he spotted the handle of his blade and fetched it. Even now as he squeezed it, he felt the wisdom of his mentor who passed down the sword to him in death.

Odavacar was seething with rage. The battle was going against him, he witnessed several men retreating from the Romans, all the long months of planning to cross the Rhine, and nearly a year of bitter fighting and conquest—all was crumbling right before him.

" _Odavacar, our lines are broken, the men take flight across the river. We must do the same_!" Lokug offered.

" _After all that I have done, I shall flee?! Never! I rather d_ —" The warlord saw him, the damned Germanicus fighting and killing his men, the youngest man that Rome had sent to stop him. " _If he dies, so does the spirit of their army._ " And with that, Odavacar, against the counsel of his men; ran forth to kill the Roman General.

Germanicus grabbed a discarded cavalry shield from the ground and stood to his feet. His legionaries were pushing the last bastion of Germanic defenders back to the steps of the river. A good portion of the barbarians were already fleeing; jumping into the Rhine to swim across—whilst other stalwart savages were still fighting to obtain a glorious death. The battle was nearly won, Germanicus smiled in relief. He was tired himself, he had been awake for 24 hours and fought hard at the night attack of the Suebi camp. The back of his eyes were buzzing, his head felt fuzzy, his breathing was heavy and the inside of his legs were sore from riding Romulus around for an entire day. But he still fought on, he had to, the Julii were so close to victory that he dared not rest until the day was there's.

Odavacar pounded his axe on his shield and slurred venomously at the Legatus in his Germanic tongue, " _Germanicus! I shall have your head!_ "

The Roman's eyes grew wide at the sight of him. Germanicus couldn't believe it, but did not question how the warlord was before him. He simply raised his sword and pointed at the warlord. Odavacar gnashed his teeth at the sight of Germanicus' eyes, so he wasn't seeing things, those strange mismatched eyes—blue and green. Rome had truly birthed a monster. With fire in his eyes, the young Roman spoke in the Germanian language, " _Then come and seize it."_

Odavacar charged with a roar. Germanicus took his stance behind his shield. Odavacar leaped and brought his axe down, and Germanicus raised his shield and caught it. Germanicus spun out to the left, delivering a spinning slash to Odavacar's exposed right shoulder. The Germanian grunted in pain before wildly swinging at the Roman. Germanicus had to leap back to avoid the onslaught, so heavy were Odavacar's attacks. Odavacar kicked the shield of the Roman and sent him falling backwards into the dirt. But the nimble young man sprung to his feet and charged at him.

The two men ran into one another, their shields locked together in a test of strength, Germanicus irritated at the difference in physical strength there was from a barbarian to a Roman. The Roman stabbed at his side, but Odavacar moved his shield out and blocked it and pushed Germanicus off of him. The Legatus lunged again with his _gladius_ , but Odavacar caught the sword between the hook of the ax; then proceed to slam the rim of his shield into Germanicus' sword arm.

The Roman yelled. He instinctively dropped his sword and recoiled his throbbing arm back. He could already see the discoloration in his forearm, he hoped no bones were broken. Lightning ran through that limb. But Odavacar continued the attacking, raining blow after blow against Germanicus' defense, all the Roman could do was block.

 _I need to escape this onslaught,_ thought Germanicus. His left arm was getting heavy and he was tiring from constantly blocking. He had to hurry. The Roman lowered his shield and charged like a battering ram, knocking both him and his Teutonic foe down to the dirt. Odavacar recovered first and slammed his axe hard into the Roman shield, completely penetrating it and pinning it to the ground. Germanicus could not pull the shield out with his sole strength, so he slipped his lithe arm out of his ruined shield and scooped up a handful of dirt in his free left hand. He quickly grasped his sword in the dirt with his bruised right arm and stood to his feet. It pained him to grasp it tightly, but with gritted teeth, Germanicus told himself, _Fight through the pain! Fight through it!_ Odavacar attacked with violent abandon and Germanicus blocked with his blade when he couldn't dodge and dodged when he couldn't block.

Odavacar swung his axe, which slashed through flesh Germanicus' right arm. He winced in pain and recoiled backwards, his blood flowing down his arm. The cut wasn't too deep but his shoulder felt like it was burning, on top of his forearm growing numb from the last blow he received from the warlord; his entire right arm was a mass of utter pain. Odavacar brought his axe down in a vertical slash. The Roman sprung his plan into action. He blocked the axe attack and with the dirt still in his hand, he threw it into the eyes of the Germanic barbarian. Germanicus felt no shame in such an action. It was often quoted that soldiers of Rome should fight with "Strength and Honor." But such was a misnomer. It truly meant that strength and honor were in victory only, not defeat. You could do whatever was permitted **as long** as you are victorious. It was a pretty picture to imagine a soldier fighting nobly and honorably against the ruthless enemy. But war is never pretty. Every man fights to survive to see another day, and Germanicus was prepared to do anything to return home, alive. Odavacar gritted his teeth and tried to clear his aching eyes; allowing Germanicus to pivot to the left. The Roman raised his sword high, _Fight through the pain!_ And brought down his _gladius_ with all his strength, and he completely hacked off Odavacar's right hand at the wrist.

Odavacar recoiled with a furious screech, clasping his arm as he watched the blood dripping out of the stump. Germanicus pressed forward with his sword raised, and slashed at Odavacar's throat; yet Odavacar dipped instinctively and the steel sliced through both eyes of the barbarian warlord. Odavacar fell to the mud with a horrid scream as blood poured down from his eyes. Germanicus raised his sword over the squirming barbarian and angled his blade downwards, only to be tackled by Odavacar's bodyguard to the ground.

Lokug and several of his men rushed to the flailing warlord. _"Be calm, Odavacar! Be calm!"_

" _I cannot see! I cannot see, Lokug!"_ Odavacar continued yelling.

" _He needs a healer!"_ one of his men said.

" _Quickly, take him to the boats!_ "

The barbarian on top of him continued to wrestle with him, but Germanicus could spot the other barbarians taking Odavacar out of the battle. Germanicus growled in anger. Nearly a whole year trying to kill that warlord and he was escaping? No. Not like this.

Germanicus raised his head up and chomped on his wrestler's nose so hard that blood was seeping from the flesh. The barbarian clutched his face and yelled, allowing Germanicus to plunge his sword through the screamer's ribcage.

As soon as the screamer fell dead off Germanicus, a spearman stood over the Legatus ready to gore him, but the Roman was the quicker of the two and chopped the spearman's foot off at the ankle. As the footless man fell to the earth, Germanicus pitched his sword straight through his heart with a warrior's wail.

His eyes rose to where the warlord previously was. And to Germanicus' utter frustration, Odavacar was already off the riverbank, his men had placed him in a small boat and were paddling furiously to the opposite side of the Rhine. He could still make out the boat that the wounded Odavacar was still on.

His luck continued to worsen as three barbarians came charging at him with weapons drawn. But a swift arrow had entered into the heart of the first barbarian and he slumped backwards. Two arrows were shot into his fellow comrades, entering their hearts as well.

He snapped his head back to see the archers of his Auxilia advancing behind them. The leader of them was himself a Gaul who served the dual role of Mercenary Captain and Captain of the Archer Auxilia. He had long dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and was tall and broad and he was named Ardunas, after the Gallic goddess of the hunt, Arduinna.

"Apologies upon our late arrival," Ardunas said with a sinister smile, "So many Germanians to kill. Have you put that bastard Odavacar to grass?"

"His men saved him at the last moment. He takes to the boats!"

Ardunas traced Germanicus' eyes to the boats now paddling across the river. The Gallic archer shook his head, "He flees, so close…"

"No. He does not flee. He should be in range. Ardunas, target him on that boat."

"Truly?"

"That man had sacked cities and slaughtered many innocent Romans! Including a Julii. This **ends** today."

A twisted smile formed on the Gaul's face. "I'm so proud of you, Germanicus."

Ardunas fell back to the ranks behind the infantry where the Archer Auxilia of 300 strong had already lined up in formation. Ardunas ordered his men, "Archers, target the retreating boats, draw!" The archers fetched their arrows and placed it on the bow. "Nock!" They pulled the arrow back on their bowstrings and elevated their arms. "Adjust, elevate 20 degrees!" Each archer made an appropriate adjustment to their aim. With a guttural cry, he shouted, "Now rain death on them, loose!"

As one, the archers released their grips on the arrow and sent them soaring through the air, then reloaded instinctively for another volley.

On the boats, the Germanians were paddling with all their might to escape back to the eastern banks. Odavacar had ceased in his bloody screaming, now slightly squirming and groaning from the pain of his robbed eyesight. Lokug was looking over him to offering words of comfort, but was silenced as two arrows entered into his back and he died on top of Odavacar. Another Germanian cried out to raise shields and he was taken with four arrows in the torso, falling off the boat.

The Germanians raised their shields high and were able to block a few of the arrows as they slammed into their shields. A few, but not all. The volley was too great and the blowing wind changed the flight of some arrows into different angles. Their shields could not cover everywhere and soon the arrows tore through their bodies like a stick through a leaf. Many men on the retreating boats were killed and crashed into the water with great splashes. Several boats were beginning to capsize from the sudden onslaught of arrows. The Archer Auxilia then fired off their second volley.

Odavacar, hearing the screaming of his dying men and the rocking of the boat, strained himself as he rose upward, pushing the dead man off of him and asking his men what was happening. An arrow entered the blind man's stomach, then his ribs, then his throat, and then his mouth.

Six arrows entered Odavacar's rower who stood up to shield himself. As the rower fell off the boat, his heavy foot snagged on the line of rope in the inlet of the boat, his momentum causing the boat to capsize with a large splash. Odavacar's body went under, and the legionaries watched on as the arrow-riddled corpses of the Germanic raiders floated down the river. Out of the fifteen retreating ships, only about four managed to escape the archers' barrage.

Back on the riverbank, the remaining Germanians were falling in droves. With their leader wounded and evacuated—and dead, yet this was unknown to them—their ranks broken, their previous loss earlier last night—their morale shattered. Some of them tried to flee across the ravenous river, but the Archer Auxilia picked them off. Some men tried to run towards the water, but the legionaries caught up to them and drove their swords and pila into their backs. Those Germanians who were stretched in the dirt, wounded and begging for their pain to end received their wish; at the end of Roman steel. The few prisoners that were taken were the warriors who were knocked out or passed out from their wounds. Three Suebi laid down their weapons in clear surrender, yet five legionaries with a thirst for blood forced them down to their knees and placed their steel against their necks and laughed.

"Enough!" shouted Germanicus. The five legionaries blinked in a mix of fear and surprise. "They have surrendered and their leader is dead, this invasion is over. There has been enough bloodshed this day. Take them prisoner. That's an order."

They sheathed their blades and nodded. "Understood, Legatus." And they took the three barbarians away.

* * *

Around Germanicus, the battle was over. The ground was wet with blood, mud, and feces and the only audible background noise was the river coursing around the bank and the moaning of the wounded Romans and dying Germanians. The Legatus sheathed his sword and took out a pouch of water and drank from it.

One of his Thracian bodyguards, a rash young man named Diza, came from behind him in jubilance. "We did it, Legatus! We finally took back the Rhine!"

Germanicus exhaled as he took the pouch away from his parched lips. He shook his head, his smile was simple yet bittersweet, " 'Took back the Rhine'? You are mistaken, Diza. We just secured the western bank. As long as the Germanians hold on to the eastern side of the Rhine, then it has not truly been taken.

"Oh uh," Diza said, mildly embarrassed, "Of course, Legatus."

The young general looked back out to the length of the vast river and to the uncharted land in the distance, east of the Rhine. "Rome shall one day hold on to both sides of the Rhine." He sighed, "But not today."

Diza looked down and gasped softly, "Legatus, you're wounded."

"Hmm?" he raised his arm and examined the cut that bled moderately. "A scratch, other legionaries are wounded more than I. They shall be treated first." In truth, his right arm was aching fiercely, but he forced the pain out of his mind.

"Legatus!" a helmetless legionary came running to him.

"What is it?"

He saluted, "Legatus, _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus reports that the First Century, First Cohort have examined the derelict fort, and we have found many Roman men, women, and children; prisoners of those barbarians."

Germanicus reached the fort, the men of the First Cohort had escorted most of the citizens out of their bounds and chains and into the open. Many of the women were bruised and bleeding, some of them wept for joy as they spotted the legionaries approach them. Most of them stared out blankly, their lips trembling; their minds seemingly fighting to comprehend if their nightmare was over. The few children hid behind the women, still trembling in terror of what they had seen. The Legatus traced their eyes to the dead Germanians, their bloody wounds and dismembered limbs already had clouds of flies around them.

One man spoke as he laid eyes on Germanicus. "Are you in command of these men?" his voice was fragile.

Germanicus nodded surely, "Yes. I am Vitus Julius Germanicus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion."

Whispers slithered among them, all in surprise of an actual Julius showing up before them and at the front of the famed legion. The man broke out in sobs, "Bless you, Julius Germanicus! May Jupiter bless your efforts in saving us!" The rest of the men and women spoke as one, their voices mixing together in gratitude and cries. The speaker continued, "Some days… they would kill one of us in front of everyone… And sometimes they would take some of us across the river…" his sobs grew louder, "And those that were taken never came back. Many never… they never…"

"Be at peace. All of you," he said with a genial smile. His voice was soft and endearing, his eyes lit up in compassion and pity. He was no longer "General Germanicus, Slayer of the Suebi" but simply an aristocratic citizen who was concerned for the plebeians; he was now "Vitus Julius". Vitus continued, "We have taken back Lugdunum and we just slayed the last of the Suebi, you are all safe now. You do not need to be afraid."

Their eyes shined of hope and relief, especially the women's. Some were trembling in happiness at the words he gave them. Vitus continued to the frightened people, "You shall return back to civilization. And you shall be safe."

He looked to the first horsemen he saw that can carry a message. He spotted Diza and said to him, "Deliver word to Sertorius and Oppius, that the day is now ours. The western bank of the Rhine is secure, as is the fort. We have rescued many Roman citizens who were kept captive at the fort. Hundreds of Germanians lie dead, only a score managed to escape across the river." Germanicus looked over to several lifeless barbarians that still drifted down the river. "And that Odavacar is dead. Diza, their camps should still be established a mile back, gallop with haste."

He gave him a salute, "I shall, Legatus." And galloped off.

Vitus then took notice of his men were mustering around them, haggard yet proud smiles radiated from their faces. He could feel the aura of victory swelling around him. All eyes were on him, soldiers and citizens alike. The young Legatus inhaled through his nose and momentarily buried Vitus the Julius and channeled Germanicus the General. "Look around you men! Look at the victory we have won today. For a full day, morning and night, we have been awake to ensure our triumph over those odious Suebi! They took our land, burned our crops, and enslaved our own people! Look to these men, women, and children we have delivered from the hands of those Suebi! Take pride in what you have done! We pushed those bastards back from the city of Lugdunum all the way back to the Rhine! Let them come and invade again and we shall show them the might of the Julii! Give thanks to each other, to our dead brothers-in-arms who gave their lives for this victory, give thanks to the Gods! Let them hear your gratitude, this shall be another moment of victory upon the annals of the Twenty-Eighth! So lift your voices to the heavens and rejoice!" With his good left arm, Germanicus lifted his bloody sword high, " _ROMA VICTOR!_ "

The soldiers cheered and thrust their weapons in the air, bellowing, "Roma Victor!" The citizens gave endearing cries of relief and blessings to the soldiers and applauded with sheer joy and gratitude. They all began to hug each other and pounded their chest and stamping their feet in exhilaration. Germanicus gave a bright smile, by the gods he was proud of these men and proud of his fellow generals, Quintus Sertorius and Aulus Oppius, if only they were here at this moment to bask in the celebrations. He closed his eyes and felt the eyes of his father peer on him from the afterlife.

Germanicus shouted louder, "Twenty-Eighth!"

 _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus took up the call, "Twenty-Eighth!"

Ligadis chuckled before speaking up, "Twenty-Eighth!"

The soldiers all began chanting as one, "Twenty-Eighth! Twenty-Eighth! **Twenty-Eighth**!"

* * *

 **Feels good to be writing a story of antiquity again. Hopefully I did well in articulating the battle.**

 **Also, the ending part of the fighting was based off my gameplay in Medieval 2. I was England and just beat the HRE and as their General was retreating with only him and two men remaining, I had my three longbowmen units fire on him as he retreated and LUCKILY, I killed him before he escaped the battlefield. I wonder how many others had a similar experience.**

 **Honestly surprised how long the first chapter was. Wasn't actually planning it to pass 10k words, but I wanted to open up upon a battle so I guess that naturally took its course in spreading out the length. Also, the civil war in the backstory was NOT the civil war in-game between the Julii, Brutii, and Scipii.  
**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **-Kanuro5**


	2. The Road

**Kanuro5** : Not much to say but I hope you will enjoy!

* * *

 **II**

 **The Road**

The _medicus_ scooped out a handful of salve and rubbed it on Vitus Julius' forearm. His arm twitched from the application of the ointment, his bruised limb now coated in the oily substance but after a few minutes of rubbing by the _medicus_ , the salve began to soak into the skin.

"So, Germanicus, the coloration seems to be returning, does any pain linger?" the physician asked.

Vitus moved his arm and clenched his fist several times, "Occasional sensations when I grip tightly, but the pain has dullened considerably."

The _medicus_ nodded, "Good. It was most fortunate that the warlord didn't break any bones in the arm. Upon tomorrow, allow me to administer more of the salve and I guarantee that your forearm shall recover fully."

"Gratitude, for your effort."

"Now, what about that slash on your other arm, is such a wound plaguing you?"

"No, it is fine. Gratitude for your aid," he said, standing up to leave.

He glanced at the healing wound on his arm where Odavacar's axe sliced through his flesh. It was stitched up neatly and the blood had dried, thanks to the help of a few maggots. _Another addition to my collection_ , Vitus thought to himself with a sigh. He was shirtless to better aid the _medicus_ , but he took the time to examine all the scars he received on his body from being stabbed, slashed, speared, and shot by arrows. He was of sixteen years when he first entered combat, but now he was nineteen—about to be twenty within a month—and he was covered in the scars of war from thigh to forehead. The most egregious scar was that on his forehead that ran from temple-to-temple. He received it when he was sixteen and improperly blocked an attack from a Germanic champion. The barbarian used his massive strength to send Vitus' own sword against his forehead, splitting it open. He stilled remembered the pain on his skull, the stinging of the blood falling in his eyes, and the sensation of passing out once he had killed that barbarous champion.

Three days had passed since the Roman victory at the banks of the Rhine. The eight battered legions of the Julii withdrew into the town of Lugdunum—which once stood raze with many buildings in rubble from the Suebi attack, but after its recapture by the Julii a few short months ago, it was in the process of renovation. It was around sundown in the town and the citizens were men and women ceasing in their rebuilding and afternoon duties and prepared to turn in for dinner and slumber. Yet many soldiers of the eight legions were still out carousing with each other as they drank to their total victory over the Germanic barbarians. And they shared such victory with several civilians, especially the women.

He spotted his own soldiers from his Twenty-Eighth Legion seemingly harassing Germanic prisoners, men and women shackled together and in cages. These men and women were warriors that Vitus had taken prisoner within the last two months, about a hundred in all. Not many considering the thousands that his father had captured in his war in Gallia. These Germanians would be sold as slaves, great gladiators and gladiatrixes throughout the Republic, the Teutons were renowned for their ferocity in fighting, yet made poor house slaves. Vitus expected he could make a decent profit from them. Aside from the people, he had also secured a moderate amount of booty that was taken from the campaign which were secured within guarded chests by his most trust soldiers. Booty? Ha! A term which was insignificant compared to other regions in the world, such as Pontus and some parts in Africa. The only thing of worth that could be found in Germania were hides from the numerous animals within the woods, certain amounts of pottery, and the only jewelry that could be scrounged was only for the wealthiest of the Germanian tribes which wasn't much. The Roman soldiers laughed at the prisoners, dangled food in front of the cages, whistled at the Germanian women, and splashed wine onto them. Several of the prisoners roared with ferocity and spat at the Romans, earning a quick baton to the cages and hard blows to several exposed body parts that stuck out of the cages.

"Leave them be!" Vitus shouted as he advanced.

"Apologies, Legatus, but they are foul-tempered!" One of them said, "They piss and spit upon us."

"They are valuable commodity, to not be abused. They were defeated in battle, many of them were surrounded and still killed many soldiers before they were captured. So show some decorum and leave them be."

"Yes, Germanicus!" they bellowed, then withdrew.

Vitus looked to the caged eyes who glared back with utter vileness. Slaves, hides, and jewelry, to provide ample coin for him—and most importantly, to pay for the wages of his legionaries. He was fortunate that his father had placed the silver mine he owned in Hispania in his will for Vitus—which still had an abundance of silver to be excavated—most of the income from such a mine financed his legion.

Vitus left the slaves, his mind occupied on more pressing matters. He entered the stables of the town and looked to his black steed, Romulus, who was lying on its legs patiently as the _eques medicus_ was still examining the spear wound in his chest.

Vitus gently bit the bottom of his lip before he asked, "How is he?"

The physician nodded, "Your horse is recovering swiftly, it was fortunate that the wound was not fatal, but I would advise you to not ride him for a few more days."

He breathed easier. He took a look at Romulus and his horse had looked towards him. He rose to his feet and approached Vitus, nestling his head against the Roman's arm. Vitus chuckled and rubbed his stallion's neck. _Such an intelligent creature. To see you wounded…_ He shook the idea out of his head, but it was a constant fear that he had. Warhorses have an alarming tendency to suffer grievous wounds within the thick of the fighting, which Vitus charged into often. All it takes is one good spear thrust or a mighty swing of an axe to the legs and the horse falls. Then one would have to put it out of its misery. He petted Romulus more, his black coat was groomed neatly and caught the light in a prestigious way. His horse reminded Vitus of the tale of Bucephalus, Alexander of Macedon's personal horse and arguably the most famous warhorse in history. Bucephalus was large and black of coat as Romulus was, and said to be as intelligent as a man. According to legend, no one could tame the wild stallion, not even King Philip of Macedon; yet his young son, Alexander, tamed the horse by culling its fear of its own shadow. Since then, Bucephalus had been Alexander's favorite mount in battle but during the final campaign of Alexander in the East; Bucephalus was fatally wounded and later died. Alexander would later name a city after his noble steed.

"Do the best you can," Vitus told the doctor, "Tomorrow the legion is heading back to Italia."

"I shall, rest assured."

Vitus smiled, stroking his horses' neck caringly, muttering to the equine, "We both were injured during that last fight, and we both set to recover. Rest easy, Romulus." And with that, he left his horse.

He came upon the remains of the Forum and sat out in the open at a table and supping on some bread, figs, and wine; enjoying the simple art of people-watching. Several legionaries were sitting in front of a group of men, women, and children recollecting their exploits of bravery against the monstrously savage barbarians, in which the citizens clapped and cheered. Many other soldiers were drinking and singing songs of victory, though a centurion would often come by and remind them that they would be marching tomorrow and thus they cannot afford to drink **too** heavily—yet Vitus knew that such prospect would be inevitable with some men. Some men were finding some places to sleep for the night, resting their bodies against the backs of some ruined homes. And a good chuck of legionaries decided to lay with the camp followers outside the city and the whores within the city. Once the Romans took back Lugdunum, the citizens began to return in droves, including the whores.

"Where is he? I desire to see him!" a voice slurred.

"He is over here, I see him," slurred another voice.

Two men staggered in front of Vitus—both of barbarian blood and both under the influence of wine. One was his Mercenary Captain and Commander of the Archer Auxilia, Ardunas the Gaul. The other was the son of the Marcomanni chieftain, Etor the Germanic. Wine was on their breath and their faces were flushed with merriment, but it was Etor who seemed to be the least drunk of the duo, walking straighter than Ardunas. A Germanian and a Gaul enjoying a bout of laughter? Vitus believed he must have been in a dream.

Etor was a fine warrior and an even better horseman, he led his Marcomanni cavalry brilliantly when teamed with the Roman cavalry against the Suebi. In fact, the Marcomanni stood the only Germanic tribe allied to Rome to aid the Julii against the Suebi Invasion. They have taken to Romanization quicker than the other tribes and even versed their offspring in Latin, all of them enticed by the wonders that the Republic can offer. They provided cavalry, light infantry, missile troops, and informed the Julii of the tactics of the Suebi and how the Romans themselves can use the Germanic woodlands to launch ambushes against the Suebi. These men were crucial in the campaign, and it was because of Etor—the son of the Marcomanni chieftain, Hirban—who commanded the Marcomanni cavalry and aided in their victory at the banks of the Rhine. After Odavacar was dead, Etor took his warriors back to their lands to ensure no Suebi remnant were launching any hidden assaults.

Etor looked to the Legatus and extended his hand and spoke in clear Latin, yet his accent was still strictly a guttural barbaric inflection, "Ah, Germanicus! I could not tell you at the time, but that was a good battle! Your plan at the banks succeeded marvelously."

Vitus smiled and shook hands with the swaying Germanian, "Only because you played your part to perfection. I asked much of your Marcomanni, but I stand grateful that you aided us in this crucial endeavor. I give gratitude to you and your people. Are your lands secured?"

"That they are, my people are thankful to you, as is my father, Hirban. He only ask that since we gave so much in the duty of Rome, that your Patriarch remembers his vow to us."

"I shall speak to him personally about the valor of the Marcomanni. You have my word." Vitus turned to the grinning form of Ardunas. "How does the evening fare with you, Ardunas?"

"Oh a fucking blessing! The gods sure can deliver gratitude in the form of a woman!"

"What do you mean?"

"You never know how truly amazing a Roman woman can fuck when she's 'grateful', eh!" He then howled like a wolf, much to the amusement of Etor.

"You've visited the whores?" Vitus asked with a raised brow and a cocked smirk.

"Twice today!"

"And do not tell me, you are going back to the whores again, correct?"

"Of course! Who the fuck do you think I am, Vitus! There's plenty of wine provided by General Sertorius and whores are in the town and we emerge victorious. In fact, come with us and bury your Roman cock inside some women! You're a handsome, young legatus and a Julius to boot! They shall lift their stola's faster than you could blink! You could practically feel the heat exude from their warm, velvety cunts!"

 _Feel the heat from their warm, velvety cu—_ He could feel his loins stirring at the image of an endowed woman lifting her dress in his mind's eye, her lower mouth parting with the summer warmth exiting and wafting around his senses. It had been so long since he last coupled with a woman… He shook his head, "Ardunas! I am married, I cannot do that."

"And? She would not know. So come and—"

Ardunas stopped upon seeing a hardened glare from Vitus—no, Germanicus! That glare was from Germanicus. The Gallic archer nodded his head with pursed lips, "Fine, be that way. More for me. Now if you excuse us, Germanicus, there are whores that call for our cocks!" Ardunas roared unashamedly. "Come, Etor! Bear witness to how a Gaul fucks with purpose!"

Vitus called out after them as they left, "Do not enjoy yourself too much, we are to leave at first light tomorrow."

As the noise around him began to die down, his mind drifted back to Arretium, back to her. His wife. It had been almost an entire year since he had seen her, and since he had been inside of her. He felt himself hardening under his tunic at the thought of their wedding night. He sighed at the sight of his arousal, his brother always said that the Julii were truly virile, a gift from their goddess ancestor, Venus. He crossed his legs and tried to fight away the temptation, luckily he saw who was approaching him and gave the man a friendly smile, he would get his mind off sex; for it was the general who had commanded the entire campaign against the Suebi Invasion, Quintus Sertorius, walking towards Vitus.

He was a simple man of Sabine blood who proved himself a gifted orator and jurist. He then pursued a career in the military and there found his calling. He was brave, honorable, and innovative in battle. Early in his career, he served under the famous Gaius Marius and later fought with Vitus' father—Lucius Julius Magnus—in Hispania with such valiance that he was awarded the Grass Crown, the highest military decoration in the Republic. Upon winning the crown, the Patriarch of the Julii family adopted Sertorius into the Julii clan.

Lucius Julius was often heralded as the greatest general of the Julii; but such praise meant that Quintus Sertorius was the second greatest general of the Julii. And with his father gone, Sertorius was _the_ powerhouse of the entire clan. It was said that Lucius singlehandedly took Hispania, but such was farther from the truth, it was Lucius and Sertorius that took Hispania and the Patriarch decided that a man as gifted as Sertorius should be awarded the entire Governorship of the peninsula of Hispania. Whilst Oppius had a bodyguard retinue of Romans, and whilst Vitus had a bodyguard retinue of Thracians; Sertorius' retinue of bodyguards were made of a mix between Romans and warriors from various tribes in Hispania. His stratagem in combat often involved utilizing his men and cavalry in brilliant hit-and-run tactics involving ambush and sabotage to draw out the main force of the enemy to be met in battle and destroyed—it was because of this that the Julii were able to repel the Suebi Invasion quickly within ten months.

He was in his early 40s but looked as if he was a decade younger. He was tall and muscular, his body a tribute to his life training within the army. Yet what truly made him stand out from other men was that he was missing an eye, lost to him in a ferocious battle a decade ago. Yet this feature only seemed to enhance his prestige as he would often wear a leather eyepatch around his missing eye, which did little to cover the large scar that ran down his eye—even splitting the eyebrow. He was a gregarious man yet stoic when he needed to be; fair and just, yet firm. And whenever he spoke for a period of time, his eloquence and influential speech became apparent to all. He was the best of men, an individual that all could admire and desired to emulate, Vitus Julius being one of them. He exuded authority in such that it reminded Vitus of his father; some men were just **born** with the power of command. He often felt inferior just standing next to Sertorius.

Sertorius sat down beside Vitus, a jug of wine in hand and refilled Vitus' cup with a genial smile. "Never considered you the man to be drinking alone, Vitus."

He shrugged, "Best chance to reflect over past journeys and watching as citizens and soldiers interact with one another."

Sertorius sighed agreeably, his eye looking towards the stability that they have brought. "A pleasant thing, is it not? Our men are joyous in spirit, as are the Lugdunum citizens; weary days do approach them to rebuild a life they once knew, free of barbarian threat. And yet they have time to rejoice in relief. Such is… beautiful. I believe that we can allow ourselves to take pride in our efforts, for we've done a great thing here."

"We have. A shame we cannot linger and aid in the rebuilding. It looks as if they require all the aid they can gather."

"Do not worry upon such, Vitus. My men shall take care of it."

"How?"

"I offered a bonus for a thousand of men who would volunteer to stay in Lugdunum and aid in its recovery."

"How generous of you."

Sertorius smiled pleasantly, "These people were subjugated to horrors that we cannot even begin to describe. With the depths of torture and death surrounding them all in these past harrowing months… if I can do whatever I can and provide some measure of comfort for them, then so be it."

"If only more men were like you."

He gave the younger man a chuckle as a response. "How is your horse, uh, 'Romulus' was it not?" Sertorius asked him.

"Yes, that is his name. He shall make a strong recovery."

Sertorius smiled, "Such lifts the heart. A stallion in agony is the worse thing to witness, especially if it is your most precious mount."

Vitus mused on the idea. "How many times has such happened to you?"

His single eye flickered to the sky and then to the table in front of him, "Too many. I often venture into the thick of the fighting, and my horses endured the consequences. I speak to men who often held command and express the heavenly praise upon their horses, how beautiful their coats are, how obedient they can be to their masters, how much profit can be secured upon sale. These commanders prize their mares and stallions over their own soldiers and choose not to be involved in the fighting personally. I cannot do that. I want to go out there, I want to fight and aid my men; I love my horses and I've prepared myself that they would die in battle when I lead a charge. But that does not make it any easier when you lose one. Such may happen to Romulus, and you must be prepared for that, Vitus."

He was a true lover of nature, a natural at the breaking of wild stallions; he had a presence that calmed men and beasts when in his vicinity. His words had a way of calming a heavy heart and elevating one status upon the pureness of his prose and articulation. He truly was one of a kind. Sertorius was the man that his Father could have been if he had borne a kinder disposition.

"So this is where the generals are at!"

Both Vitus and Sertorius turned to Aulus Oppius, waltzing to them as he hummed a marching tune, carrying a plate of salt beef with him.

Sertorius' smile lessened, but he expanded his arms towards Oppius, "Take a seat and be part of the company."

"Sertorius and I were just breaking words on the good that we have done for these people."

The fellow general took a seat and placed his meal in front of him. "The Germanic threat put to grass, the survivors rescued from the clutches of savage slavery, and the glory of such actions have sprinkled upon us. A mighty good we have done indeed. And also, know that I offer pray to your kin, Germanicus. I knew Sextus, he was a good man and a talented administrator, and he shall be missed."

Vitus vaguely remembered Sextus; he was a distant cousin around the age of fifty. He had arrived for the funeral of Vitus' father's three years ago to express his condolences. Though he didn't know Sextus well, he was of the Julii and the governor of Lugdunum—his death at the hands of the Suebi was never to be taken lightly.

"He truly shall be missed," Oppius repeated.

"Gratitude for those words." Vitus said, forcing a polite smile.

Oppius smacked on his beef for a few seconds before asking open-endedly, "So, when do you believe that the Patriarch shall choose a new governor of Lugdunum?"

Vitus' eyes crossed narrowly at the comment. "When everything shall be in proper order, I best believe. Much needs to be reestablished once everything is settled. We'll need to recruit new men from the province to garrison all forts in the region and within Lugdunum, along with gathering a tally on all revenue lost within the Invasion, including a tally on all of the missing and deceased patricians and men of political office within Lugdunum."

"Vitus is right," said Sertorius, "A careful candidate must also be considered. Though it is the territory of the Julii, the Senate must approve of the choice, to ensure that no levels of corruption can occur or another assault by foreign enemies could be launched again."

"I understand, I am just stating that a governor can aid in the renovation of this settlement." Oppius told them.

Vitus said, "That shall be for the future. The campaign is over and I am eager to return home to Italia, as are most of my men. To rest, to see loved ones, to be away from barbarians for a while. Such is rest and rejuvenation. And also, knowing my brother and uncle, they probably seek to throw a celebration upon our return to Arretium."

Sertorius sighed at the comment, "Upon _your_ return, Vitus."

"What do you mean, Sertorius?"

"Your uncle, Decius, he would offer celebration for our accomplishments in this campaign. Yet… I mean no offense to him but I feel my presence shall be better suited within Hispania."

Vitus and Oppius exchanged glances with each other. "You shall not come for celebration?"

To Vitus, it seemed at that moment that Sertorius' eye fell to the table in a twinge of regret. "I cannot. No, rather I should not."

"But this is your victory! It was your stratagem that resulted in the defeat of the Suebi. This is your victory and your moment!"

"I agree with Germanicus." Oppius added in. "We stood as your support in this campaign. As the senior Commander, the glory is yours."

"I have seen my share of glory throughout my lifetime, and truth be told, I would have chosen to stay within Hispania if I held choice. Yet the emergency of the situation made me leave my peninsula to quell the Suebi Invasion. Vitus, Aulus, you both have won your share of acclaim. Aulus, you repelled the Suebi assault upon our camp weeks ago with only half a legion. And Vitus, you earned name as 'Germanicus' for your personal valor against the enemy. Return to Arretium and bask in such glory, I insist. Allow all the noble men and women of the plebeians to herald you all "heroes", allow then to witness that one cannot truly land a blow of injustice against the Republic and seek to escape with impunity. This shall be your moments, yet not I. I shall do the honorable course and only seek to return to Hispania, I shall feel more at peace if I do."

Vitus understood right there what he meant. As long as Lucius Cornelius Sulla was the dictator of the Republic; his hated enemy, Sertorius, could never return to the Italian peninsula if he valued his life. Vitus recalled how vehemently Sertorius protested against the Julii joining Sulla's war against the Senate, Sertorius even threatened to abscond from the Julii with the entire province of Hispania if it meant that Sulla would not gain power. But the Julii Patriarch and his silver-tongue managed to persuade Sertorius to stay with the Julii and fight alongside Sulla—albeit rather reluctantly.

"I understand," Vitus said. Best to leave it as is, broaching the subject of Sulla with Sertorius was rather taboo.

The edge of Sertorius' mouth moved up with a nod. "Gratitude for understanding."

"Governors and Legatus!" announced a soldier with a salute. From the emblem of his armor, he was a legionary under Sertorius.

"Ah, Titus Sundo," remarked Sertorius amiably, "What is it?"

"Pardon for interrupting, but a courier has traveled with apparent news of import for Governor Aulus Oppius."

"Truly? Alright then, send him forth."

The young messenger stepped from behind the soldier and gave a profound bow before the three generals. "A thousand apologies, yet I bring message to Aulus Oppius, Governor of Massilia."

"I am he," Oppius said with a beckoning hand. "Break words upon message, courier."

"Such message is sealed for privacy, governor. Here." He handed the sealed scroll to Oppius who examined the seal before breaking it. He unraveled the message and his eyes combed from word-to-word. After half a minute he gave a tiresome groan and folded the message. He looked to the courier and tossed him a few coins. "Gratitude for your service. Ride back to Massilia and inform Prefect Marcus Pulcher of my prompt return."

The man bowed and left them. Sertorius looked to Oppius, "What has happened, if you do not mind?"

Oppius exhaled in frustration, "I do not. Such message brought ill news of my business contacts in Massilia. One of my supervisors, that raging fool, lost documents worth three full talents of pay which was meant to be stipend to the workers of the docks. Now these workers are furious at the prospect of heavy work with no benefit of coin and apparently started rioting around the docks."

Vitus inhaled sharply, "Truly? How vast is the mob?"

"A paltry sum, if truth be told." He sliced a portion of beef from his plate and chewed it. "Apparently they number around two hundred men and the Town Watch fear that such numbers may swell. Yet they are contained in the dockyard. I swear I shall ring the neck of the incompetent ass who blundered the workers into riot when I return."

Oppius washed the beef in his mouth with the last amount of wine in his cup. He cleared his throat and ordered, "Slave! Wine!"

"Should you not be more concerned about this?" Sertorius asked. "A riot is occurring within your city."

"Believe me, I am. Yet it shall be quelled quickly. We are two days away from Massilia. I shall send my three legions back to the city immediately to regain control. What can two hundred do against over ten thousand?"

"If such is a problem, I can bring my men to Massilia to aid you."

"Gratitude for such thoughts, but it is not necessary, Sertorius. I can handle such problems; you can return your men to Hispania."

"Are you certain?" Vitus asked.

He nodded, "I am. They need to see that it is my soldiers that bring order to the city. And with such show of force, they shall know that any uprising shall be meted out with the harshest of measures. Where's my tribune?" He called for him loudly. The man hurried and presented himself. Oppius called for his cup to be refilled before he spoke. "Tribune Caranius, alert the legates and _Primus Pilus_ of my three legions that the army is to cease in celebration and to sober quickly, they are to leave within an hour for Massilia. A riot is occurring within the dockyard—which is to be quelled immediately."

"Apologies to question, Governor, but the sun is setting and the men are still festive in drink and women, would it be the best route to travel by night after extensive celebration?"

"I want this rioting to cease immediately, the soon the legions are sent, the quicker commerce within Massilia to resume. I should risk taxes and trade to fall to disarray for a few hours of sleep? Nonsense. And those who are too drunk to march shall be flogged into sobriety, understood?"

"Understood, Governor. Should I alert your retinue of guards as well?"

"No, let them sleep, I believe it best they should rest until the morn tomorrow. I shall stay with my guards overnight and proceed to Massilia within the morning."

"Understood!"

As a slave came and refilled Oppius' cup, Vitus observed how Oppius failed to notice Sertorius' brief but scathing look. Aulus Oppius was a man in his 40s and of high aristocratic blood, and he expressed such views upon his plebeian soldiers. He often ate alone in his tent instead of with his men like Sertorius and Vitus had, and when Oppius' soldiers dined on bread and porridge; he dined on syrup figs, salted beef, and honey. He persuaded the Julius Patriarch to give him the governorship of Massilia—the biggest port city in the Julii territory at the southern edge of Transalpine Gaul—where the commerce from the dockyard was very lucrative and could be taxed exponentially; something that many people suspected was the reason Oppius lobbied for the position so fervently. He was always in the opinion how the patricians should stem the shrinking gap between plebeians, who slowly were growing more prominent and richer as the patricians were growing poorer. He was also one of the main members of the Julii to convince the Julius Patriarch to side with Sulla's march upon Rome. He even rode beside Sulla in many of his battles—a subject which Vitus believes Sertorius still harbors disdain over, but puts on a mask of polite professionalism whenever he speaks to Oppius.

Oppius cleared his throat, "Apologies, Germanicus, but I shall not be able to return to Arretium, this business in Massilia must be settled."

The young man blinked incredulously. "Are you certain on that?"

"I am." Oppius smirked smugly, "It seems like you shall share in singular glory upon your arrival."

Vitus cleared his throat, "Glory and honor best assuaged with you two along."

Oppius gave him a quick wink, "You have a new name because of your soldiers, best bask in it."

"Well, I do hope such activity shall be quashed upon your return to Massilia."

"As do I, Vitus." Oppius said, exhaling after finishing his drink.

Sertorius cleared his throat, his single eye lingering on the aristocrat, "Are you **certain** you do not require aid?"

"I am fine; I tell you surely, both of you. My men shall finish this sordid business upon my arrival tomorrow. The soldiers shall part those dissenters to pieces, quick as Pan."

Sertorius looked to young Vitus, who just gave a mild shrug of uneasiness. "Well if you truly insist," said Sertorius, "Then we shall leave this to you."

"Gratitude. It shall be over before we know it."

"In the meanwhile," Sertorius raised a cup. "A toast to be made, if you both will? We have done well on this campaign. We have trodden the enemy so severely they dare not threaten us for years to come. We have saved the lives for as many Romans as we could, to remind them that whenever distress from foreign invaders come, we shall rally to shield them from harm. And to those who we couldn't protect, then… we remember them in prayer and ask the Gods to watch over them in the afterlife. We have done what we can and we have bested the Suebi, to the aid of men like you, Aulus Oppius. And the vile warlord Odavacar who slayed many Romans—including Sextus Julius—is dead, to the aid of you, Vitus Julius Germanicus. I lift a cup to you two, for your valor in battle."

"I shall offer a toast to such," Oppius laughed, raising a cup.

"As can I." Vitus said. He raised his cup and said proudly, "This journey of ours could not have been done without you, Quintus Sertorius, your stratagem and courage allowed us to defeat the Suebi within less than a year. This victory is yours as much as ours! Long live the glorious Republic of Rome…" And they all finished together, "And long live the Julii that grants Rome her strength!"

* * *

It was a pleasant morning for Aulus as he awoke. The boy that he shared his bed with was still sleeping and still quite the degree of charming that he remembered him exhibiting last night. He was sleeping within the only ten apartments within town that were unharmed; he paid the tenants if he and his bedmate could sleep in their beds.

Sertorius and Germanicus had said their goodbyes to him the previous night if Oppius did not awake early enough to catch them. Oppius stepped out of the apartment and basked in the sun, from the placement in the sky, it was mid-morning and Sertorius and Germanicus had taken their legions down south in the direction of Massilia; after that, Sertorius would head west to Hispania, while Germanicus would head east to Italia. With eight battered legions now gone from the rebuilding city, Oppius was quite taken with how much quieter it had become. The only men that remained were a thousand of Sertorius' volunteers who were busy in the rebuilding of the once notable town. One of Oppius' men came up to him, his face flushed with what Oppius could tell was a minor hangover.

He stood as straight as he can, "We are ready at your call, Governor."

"Enjoyed your extended night?"

"Yes, we did! Gratitude for that."

"Of course, now my legions have left last night and must have gained good time on the roads. Let us return to Massilia and hope by then when we enter, that the soldiers have brought order."

All twenty of his personal bodyguards mounted up on their horses and prepped to leave. Oppius kissed his young bedmate goodbye and ordered his men to hit the road down to Massilia.

The weather was pleasant and the road was quiet, one would never suspect that this region had been encompassed in heavy fighting for the past year. The road was paved and laid in the middle of two large sets of woods running parallel of the road, still reminding Oppius of the barbarian forests. Oppius didn't send out any scouts ahead of him, which was against custom for military movement; after all, they were in friendly Roman territory and his legions—along with the legions of Sertorius and Germanicus—had already marched past down this road. What would appear on the road for him to worry?

Such answer came upon the form of a wailing woman, loud and sharp. Around the turn of the corner, Oppius and his men came upon a man and a woman lying on the road, their wagon in a ditch off-road, the wheels were broken and its leather strapped suspension had snapped. The horse that carried the wagon was lying dead within the ditch, white and red foam seeping from its open mouth. Both man and woman were covered in dirt with the woman on the ground, tears in her eyes and her back to the dirt. She was heavily pregnant and her lithe arms were cradling her stomach as if to suppress the pain, her legs spread wide with the man in between them.

"What has happened?" Oppius asked.

The man approached them with frantic eyes and sobbing. He was tall and he looked to be in his early 40s and wore a heavy dark cloak, he had a few scars on his neck which draped down to the top of his chest. He bore an interesting nose that seemed to hook outward like that of an eagle's and his eyes bore the sharpness of a predator, even if he was crying at the very moment. He had chestnut brown hair and a beard of moderate length, yet was kempt and trimmed. "My good man! Fortune has cursed me greatly! Our horse started shrieking with madness and veered down into this ditch. It is dead and the wheel to our wagon is busted. Worse, my wife, Gaia, prepares to deliver our child!"

She was sweating and shaking, tears were falling down her round, supple cheeks. She continued to scream. The husband continued frantically, "I had desired to reach Massilia before she would deliver, yet Juno Lucina had seen fit to bring our child into the world now! But I know not what to do!"

Oppius' men looked at him with questioning eyes. Yet he didn't know what to do? The woman was in labor but the delivering of children was meant to be by the hands of women and the squalling mother-to-be was the only one in considerable distance.

"Can she not… hold it?" asked one of the bodyguards open-endedly.

"You fool! A woman cannot simply 'hold' an emerging child!" sneered another one.

"But we cannot deliver her here."

As his men squabbled among themselves, Oppius leapt off his horse as did three of his soldiers and approached the couple, "Can she move?"

She winced in pain, stammering, "No, no, I cannot!" She screamed again.

"The child is coming now!" her spouse pleaded. "I could see the hair on the head!"

Oppius blinked hard, trying to force out the image of a head coming out of the holiest part of a woman from his mind. "Be calm! She shall be fine! What is your name?" he asked as he knelt beside the husband.

"Publius, if it pleases you. What is yours?"

"Aulus Oppius. Be calm, Publius, Gaia shall give birth to a healthy child for you."

"You are Aulus Oppius? The governor of Massilia? The man who rode beside Sulla?"

Oppius couldn't even tell that a smirk of pride was riding on his face. "The very same."

"Good."

"Huh? 'Good'? To what do you—"

Publius raised his arm high and brought it down, chopping the air with his hand. A loud grunt and gurgle broke out behind Oppius. He spun around to see one of his men on horseback clutching his throat that now was shedding thick amounts of blood, and an arrowhead protruding from the side of his neck. Another bodyguard grunted as an arrow entered through his back and into his heart, a third soldier shrieked as an arrow knocked him off his horse as it entered into his ribcage. Arrows began flying every which way from the two sides of the forest and Oppius' bodyguards began falling quickly onto and off their horse from these precise shots. From both sides of the road, men wearing blackened coats rushed towards the road, dual swords in hand as black fabric clothed their heads except for their eyes—these men engaged Oppius bodyguards with ruthless efficiency. Oppius only blinked in horror, his brain not fully registering what was going on.

"Oppius!" his bodyguard shouted.

Oppius finally snapped out of his daze and turned around quick enough to grasp what was going to happen. Publius stood to his feet and had a large stone in hand and raised it high. Oppius' hands shot up instinctively to protect his face, but Publius smashed the rock over his head.

Aulus Oppius collapsed to the dirt with a heavy thud. His head was throbbing fiercely as if a monster was trying to rip his skull open with brute strength. His vision began to fade around him, the sounds of shouts began to blur. He tried to speak, he tried to move, he tried to—but he couldn't. The entire world was spinning around him and he couldn't even feel the ground beneath him.

"Kill him!" Oppius had barely heard such a command by one of his men.

Three of his soldiers unsheathed their swords and ran at Publius with a charge. From under the back of his cloak, Publius reached behind with both hands and drew two _gladii_ and took a defensive stance. The first soldier lunged at Publius, yet Publius had deflected the lunge with one blade and shoved the second blade into the soldier's throat. He then spun out of the kill with surprising grace and dipped low under the horizontal swing from the second soldier's sword—Publius took both of his swords and cleaved the soldier's leg at the shin. The soldier fell down screaming. The third soldier swung wildly as well, but Publius blocked it with both swords and disarmed the man, then drove his dual weapons inside the man's chest.

The horses of Oppius' bodyguards began to frighten within this whirlwind of surprise carnage and began to speed off into the distance; one of them galloped over Oppius and nearly crushed his skull with its hoof. Oppius heard Publius, "Seize the horses, quickly!"

Four of the masked men hopped on horses themselves and ran after them. The legless bodyguard was still screaming as he clutching his bleeding stump. Publius quickly darted to him and drove both of his swords through the bodyguard's heart. The fighting on the road began to die down, the masked men had slain every guard that Oppius had brought along with him.

Oppius was trembling; he could feel his own blood cascading down his face. "No…"

Publius wiped the blood of the dead off his own face, "What are you to do now, Aulus Oppius? All your men are dead." The masked killers began to encircle the injured governor. He took a look and seemed to count around fifteen of them in all, half of them wielding bows and the other half had swords with reddened blades.

"Wait!" Oppius did not know where he had to strength to blurt that out. It felt as if a furious thunderstorm was cracking between his ears. "Wait! I beg of you! Think of your folly!"

"My folly?"

"Yes," he slurred, the thunderstorm was growing in intensity within his head. "My soldiers have left for Massilia to put down an uprising, when they shall return…" his vision was slowly blackening, "…wh-when they shall return, you shall see deserved end for this heinous crime if you dare kill me!"

Publius' glare was unflinching. "Who told you of this 'uprising'?"

"A courier in the night. Wh-What is that to you?!"

"Hmm, interesting. I believe you refer to _this_ courier?"

A masked man approached in front of Oppius and squatted down, removing the black cloth from his face. It took him a moment to truly see him, his head was throbbing but the sight then struck him with horror. He gasped sharply, even when he was drinking last night; he vaguely remembered this man's features, he delivered him the message. He could hear the other masked men surrounding him begin to laugh.

"You! No…" he tried to stand, yet his legs were weak and his head throbbed violently, he collapsed back into the dirt. "No, no, no… that message was..."

"Fabricated to bring you to me, absent an army. I know the type of man you are. The man who sends the low and downtrodden to accomplish his own selfish desires. You were as such when you marched with Sulla, always commanding from the rear."

The fury of the Thunder God was erupting inside his skull now. "Wh-Who are you people?! What do you want from me?! Do you stand brigands?!"

"An insult to be labeled as such by the likes of you, Aulus Oppius. 'Brigands', hah! We are the wrath of Mars, the scourge of Neptune, the fury of Dis, the justice of Jupiter; we are the reckoning of the Gods. And we shall administer vengeance on all who aided Cornelius Sulla in his tyranny, especially men such as you."

"I-I-If you spare my life, I shall… s-s-see you satisfied by what I can give you!"

Oppius was shaking as he witnessed this man's sinister grin. "I slaughtered your men, sent your legions on a false errand, and you believe you can barter with me?"

"Speak your desire and see it attended!"

"I desire to see you fall from this world. But not yet, for you still harbor a purpose."

One of his men revealed a black bag and chuckled deeply. Oppius shook his head fervently, his pain escaping his mind in lieu of fear. "No! Away from me!" He found some strength to rise to his knees, but two men seized both arms and held him still. "No! No, no, no! I beg you! NO!" He felt the burlap bag drape over his hair and behind his neck, and his vision obscured to darkness as he was dragged away, twisting and blubbering.

Publius took a knee to one of the dead bodyguards, efficiently scrubbing the blood off his two swords using the corpse's cloak. He barked his orders curtly, "Hurry, remove the dead from the area, rake the dirt in erasure of footprints, we must clean this scene before—" A sharp yelp broke his train of thought. He looked up to see the pregnant woman lying meters away shedding tears in front of him, blood coating her face and staining her clothes.

"Gaia, I had forgotten your presence," he said to the woman who quivered in absolute fear. He approached her and gave her a gentle smile and extended his hand towards her, "Oh, Gaia, you played your part to perfection."

Her shivering sobs were all that she could vocally muster. She took his hand and awkwardly stood to her feet, her massive belly prohibiting quick movements.

"Speak, for you have done well." Publius insisted.

She stammered, "I ha-have done wh-wh-what you asked of me. I b-beg of you, allow me to see my husband and my son. Please…"

"Of course, of course. They are close by, truth be told. Bring them out," he ordered his men.

Within two minutes, his men brought forth a tall yet lanky man, his hands shackled and a bag over his head; as well as a young boy who was four years old, he too had his hands bound by rope and his head covered with a bag. The bags were removed and the man's eyes went wide at the sight of her.

"Gaia!" he shouted.

Publius extended a hand, "Be at peace, the blood on your wife is not her own. And your child is safe within her womb. You should be most proud to have a wife who performed her part well in this little "play" of ours."

"Mother!" the young child said.

"Numerius," she said to them, both names of father and son. "I am fine, I am fine," she repeated, her voice quavering.

The boy began weeping at the sight of the bodies, his father shielded his eyes. "A heavy thing to see for the first time." Publius muttered. He looked to the pregnant mother, "Go to your husband and child."

She took off in a dash and fell into the arms of her family. She wept into her husband's chest as he wrapped his shackled arms over her and kissed her forehead tenderly. They muttered to each other in a mix of affection and fear, Publius figured they earned that since being long separated.

"As I said," he spoke to the family, "She has done well in what I desired, it lifts heart to see you three reunited."

Husband and wife looked to one another. The wife spoke unsurely to Publius, "In such a case, are we… are we permitted to leave?"

"I am a man of my word. I told you how I would reunite your family if you aided us. You have and I did. I vowed that I shall not harm you and your family, and I have. But this… No, I cannot permit you to leave."

Hope faded from the couple's eyes. Publius' masked men took a few steps closer to them. The husband's voice was quivering. "W-What…?"

"You stand complicit in this crime of ours. And what is from stopping you to speak to the prefect of a city and inform him of us, now that you are safe? No, you shall accompany us, so we may ensure such silence."

"We vow we shall never speak of this, Publius!" Gaia blurted out. "On Jupiter and Orcus we make this vow!" she sobbed.

He walked to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, "Such is what everyone says, until they are free. Also, my name is not 'Publius'. He looked to his men and nodded firmly. "Bag them."

"Wait, I beg you no—!" shouted the husband. The masked men shoved a brown bag over his head, and separated him from wife and son. "Gaia!" he called out.

"Numerius!" she shrieked, a bag covering her head.

"Mother! Father!" the young son cried. A bag was draped over his head as well.

The family was sobbing, but "Publius" shushed them gently. "Lower thy voices. If you continue to elevate your voice, we shall be forced to silence it. And be at peace, my word still stands. You shall still be together with one another, yet in the inside of a sealed wagon."

Three of his men took each of the family away. Four masked men on horseback galloped from the south road, carrying the reins of several of the escaped horses.

"Publius" gazed at the horses, "Is that all of them?"

"It is, none of them escaped."

"Good. We must erase our presence from this area. Cover or the clean blood from the rode, destroy all traces of that broken wagon and let us take the bodies. No one is to know what happened here."

One of his men approached him and asked, "We shall do so, yet I hold questions. It shall take a moment to move the horse and wagon."

"We have time, because of the Suebi invaders, no one really travels these roads. We have time."

"Alright. My next question then, after this is done, what shall be our next move, Vipera?"

"Our next move shall be the same. We continue with Taurus' plan, I shall head to Massilia, for a day and then we shall travel to Hispania. Everything is falling into place, and we must be ready. For when the time is ready, we shall strike the decadent ones from this world. And the Gods shall rejoice in their suffering."


	3. Welcome Back

**Kanuro5** : Happy to put up another chapter. Also am currently reading _The Masters of Rome_ series, by Colleen McCullough. A seven series book of historical fiction centered around the Republic to Empire, from Marius and Sulla to Antony and Octavian. Very great book, currently on the the first installment "The First Man in Rome". If you enjoy Ancient Rome and love fiction, this is the book for you! Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 **III**

 **Welcome Back**

The gates of Arretium were before them. The large stone walls of the Julii capital stood magnificently, tall and thick; a stalwart defense that exemplified the security and strength of the Julii. Yet despite its thickness, Vitus could hear the throngs of civilians inside cheering their lungs out.

Sertorius had sent a courier out to Arretium two weeks ago upon the victory over the Suebi. Vitus knew that if his brother had had his way and convinced their uncle, than the entire peninsula of Italy would have been celebrating a triumph for the three Julii generals. Yet, only the Senate could confer a triumph over to a general, and seeing as Sertorius led the campaign; Sulla would rather have been consumed by maggots than allow him to be awarded a triumph.

The Twenty-Eighth Legion had rested and organized themselves in a small town, half a mile out from Arretium. It was essential that when they entered the city in celebration of victory; they looked fresh from battle, dignified, dried blood of their enemies caked to their armor and arms, yet not fatigued.

The men had spent a good hour getting ready from outside the city, making sure every detail of their ensemble was perfect for the crowd they were prepared to enter. The Germanic prisoners that could walk had their hands bound with rope and attached to the backs of the horses; to be paraded around to exemplify Roman superiority. Romulus had recovered nicely and Vitus was determined to ride his stallion into the city.

 _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus walked among the ranks, shouting, "Alright, boys! Fasten your gear and ready yourselves. It's time to look like soldiers!"

The men lined up in neat formations, backs straight and eyes focused upon the large gate. Vitus gently mounted Romulus and closed his eyes; he could feel the presence of the city through its thunderous crowds. He opened his eyes and gave a nod to the trumpeter.

One trumpeter inhaled and blew with all his might to the gatesman on top of the walls. The gates opened and the first sight that the legion saw were a multitude of men and women positioned parallel from one another and separated by the large street, screaming their heads off with jubilant cries.

"Advance!" Germanicus gave the command. The trumpeters blew loudly and the fellow brass players played a wondrous bombastic cadence of victory as the legionaries began their march into the capital city of the Julii. Banners of the Julii—a black laurel wreath with gold outlines on a crimson field—draped over many homes and buildings inside the city, and seemingly as the soldiers marched past each banner, the crowds' roar grew louder. Women were waving frantically at the dashing and rugged legionaries, children were play-marching beside them, and several whores flashed their flesh and blew kisses towards the grizzled soldiers as they pass their establishment— needless to say, many of the legionaries turned their heads over to such sights.

It wasn't a triumph, but it would definitely do.

The multitude cheered, "Germanicus! Germanicus! Germanicus! Germanicus! Germanicus!"

A smile crept on his face and he gave the crowd a polite and composed wave. The people loved it.

Arretium was a huge city, the peak level of a settlement that all cities aspired to reach. All the capitals of the Three Families were similar to Rome, huge cities in stature—housing close to 300,000 civilians that lived within its security. They had full functioning city plumbing whereas smaller cities would have just built meager aqueducts. To the western sector stood the Scriptorium, an upgraded Academy meant to house the city's intellectuals and future orators. The eastern sector had the Arena of Arretium, where some of the finest gladiators of Italia fought for the crowd's amusement. Vitus breathed in the air, it was great being home.

The quasi-triumph continued for another half an hour, Vitus had near forgotten how large this city really was. The column of legionaries had made a turn down right, past the Grand Forum, and arrived in the colossal marble square in the center of town that laid in front of the Pro-Consul's Palace, the home of the Patriarch of the Julii. It was a massive marvel of architecture that exhibited the power of the Julii to all who gazed upon it.

Standing at the edge of the large marble steps to the Palace was an ensemble of men and women who stood with prestige and pride as the victorious hero returned from battle. At a command, the Legionary column diverged into a set formation of lines in a parade rest, their standard and eagle at the foreground of the formation. The crowd had followed them into the open area of the Pro-Consul's Palace and still continued to cheer on with vividness.

Germanicus approached from horseback to the regal men and women that stood at the foot of the steps, their smiles were proud and welcoming. A soldier held the reins of his large, black stallion and Germanicus hopped off with poise and dignity. He approached a man, heavy in years, yet imbued with the _gravitas_ that few Romans could possibly match.

The old man wore a splendid tunic dyed in an exquisite shade of crimson, with the waist and hems flecked with gold and ebony. Draped over and around his tunic was the _toga paterfamilias,_ a heavy toga worn to symbolize the position of the Patriarch of one of the Three Great Families of Rome; it was a lighter shade of red and the hem was solid dipped his head in a bow and bent his knee to the Patriarch of the entire Julii clan, Decius Julius, his own uncle. The crowd fell silent.

The old man's lips parted and a deep voice came out, "Vitus Julius Germanicus. You may rise as Victor over the Suebi."

Vitus stood straight and beamed with pride, "Gratitude, Uncle." The crowd erupted.

Decius Julius, the Patriarch of the Julii, was quite old at the age of sixty-one years, yet was still as sharp as he was when he was twenty. He was once of average height and build before time had shrunken him, and his once jet black hair had aged considerably into a thick white. His eyes were sunk into the back of his head and his face began to sag but his voice still carried the booming baritone he had in his youth. He was the eldest brother of three, with Vitus' father, Lucius, being the youngest of the three.

And to the Patriarch's right, was the Heir of the Julii; Statius Julius, Decius' son. Statius was a man of blackened hair, average height and build; he had a flat stomach and a melodious voice that rivaled his father's. He was no soldier, but a man of gifted skills in arithmetic and statistics. When Vitus' father yet lived, he had held the title of Heir until his death in battle. Decius then deferred the title of Heir to his only son, Statius.

Decius' gave a toothy grin, "Your legion looks magnificent, Vitus."

"Do you approve of them, Uncle?"

"I approve of them." He took several slow steps forward to inspect the legion, he raise a hand high and his personal trumpeters blaringly blew their instruments for silence. The crowd's once boisterous cheer died away in an instant. Decius bellowed with the all strength he had in his lungs. " _Legio XXVIII Invicta!_ You stand before the citizens of Arretium, your blades bloodied and glory gained! You have exhibited exceeding valor in the face of the Suebi horde and saved the region of Lugdinensis! You have shown them the might and will of the Roman people, the courage of its citizens, to strike evil from this world! Such incredible feats shall not be forgotten. Let this victory over the Suebi be etched in the annals of your history! Let it be remembered and rejoiced!"

Germanicus unsheathed his sword and shot in the air, "Twenty-Eighth!"

All soldiers chanted, "Twenty-Eighth! Twenty-Eighth! Twenty-Eighth!" The thousands of citizens jumped in the air and applauded and cheered, chanting the number, "Twenty-Eighth."

Decius looked to Vitus, "They have pleased me greatly. They may be dismissed."

Vitus nodded to his _Primus Pilus_ , Aelianus nodded back and did an about face to the legion.  
"Twenty-Eighth! About face! Towards the barracks!" As one, the soldiers did a 180 degree turn to face the Army Barracks which housed all legionary members. Aelianus shouted, "Advance!"

They marched as one to the sound of trumpets and drums; they shifted from parade rest back to a column formation and left the square, towing most of the crowd with them. Soon the Pro-Consul's Palace began to quiet down.

Statius approached his cousin and slapped him lightly on the shoulder and shook his hand. "You could not believe how eager the people were to celebrate your return, Vitus."

He chuckled back, "I know, I near went deaf when I entered the city."

"A most fitting welcome for someone like you, rest assured."

Vitus nodded to him in appreciation, then gave a smile of warmth at the woman standing in front of him, Octavia Julius, his mother. A stunning woman in the middle of her years …Vitus received his mother's soft facial features. And like his brother, both sons had inherited their dark auburn hair from their mother. She gave him a maternal hug and cupped his face, "My Vitus, you looked so magnificent. Your father would have been so proud of you."

"Yes, I knew he would of have been." The words of his father echoed in his mind, " _Though I have won many laurels in my lifetime, you two have been the greatest achievements that I have ever earned."_

"You look positively thinner; I dared not believe it possible," She remarked. "Have you not been eating?"

"Bread and porridge, the luxury of a soldier, Mother." He smirked and kissed her on her cheek.

He looked to the man beside her who gave him a smile of smugness, "Another notch of victory to etch into your sword, you never seek to disappoint, Vitus."

Vitus smiled at the man, "Oh, Proculus, hard to disappoint someone who's always disappointing."

Proculus jabbed him in the stomach with a smirk. Vitus laughed. His elder brother, Proculus Julius—who was five years older than him at the age of 24—pulled Vitus in for a fraternal embrace. Proculus was a tall, physical specimen, handsome as a god and had a body that was chiseled out of marble. Years ago, he once stood an aristocratic hedonist bedding whores per month during his wife's flow of blood. Now he stood disciplined and faithful, occasionally making vulgar remarks and still dependent on wine, but he had more self-control than he ever had in his life. His duties now lie in administration of the upkeep between the great Julii cities of Arretium and Ariminum.

By his side was his wife, Appia of the Julii—who before marriage was known as Appia Maxentius, daughter of the former Consul, Caius Maxentius. Her beauty was extraordinary; her golden hair gleamed majestically, shaming the sun in splendor. Not even the taxing event of childbirth could damage her slender figure. She was of a gentle soul and loving nature, a true Roman woman and wife of virtue.

Proculus pulled out of the hug and shook his head, "By the Furies, you wreak, Vitus."

"Apologies, you often do not receive the luxuries of baths whilst in the forest of Germania."

Appia smiled, "Welcome back, Vitus." She hugged her brother-in-law, she smelled wonderful. "It lifts my heart that the Germanians did not harm you."

"As am I, though they certainly did try," he told her.

Statius looked to Vitus, "We received your letter ahead of time, Vitus. Shame Sertorius and Oppius could not join you and bask in the hour of glory."

"I echo such sentiment, yet Sertorius claims that he must return to his governorship in Hispania, and Oppius to quell a riot in Massilia."

"What?! A 'riot'?" Decius blurted.

"Well, uh, when we were preparing to leave Lugdunum, he received a courier that spoke of an inaction of a missed payment, several dock workers began a riot within the dockyards. Two hundred in all, if I recall correctly. Yet Oppius insisted that his legions could quell such an uprising. So he sent his legions out immediately. It has most likely been quelled a week ago."

Decius and Statius looked to one another. Decius spoke to Vitus, "I see. Hopefully that is the case, I shall send a messenger to Massilia to verify everything. A port city as valuable as such cannot fall to dissension."

"Uncle!" Vitus looked down to see his own little nephew beaming with a smile, as he ran to hug his leg.

Vitus kneeled down and grinned at him, "Lucius, by the gods you are growing big! How old are you now?"

"Uh… I am this!" He held out three fingers.

"You are three, Lucius! Say "three", sweetling." His mother, Appia, said with a giggle.

"Three!"

Proculus sighed, rustling his son's red hair. "Ugh, we're still working on that."

Vitus placed both hands behind his head, "Well he is just like you, Proculus; I remember that you couldn't even count to three until you turned ten."

"And you were under three feet until you turned fifteen."

"No matter how old you two become, you must bicker in one way or another," Octavia told them. "Come inside, Vitus."

The doors opened grandly, and inside he was reunited with the splendor of the interior palace. The servants gave proud smiles to him, the pristine slaves bowed down to him, and his family surrounded him with dozens of questions. Vitus had to admit, it felt good whenever he returned home and he was the subject of their talks.

Yet there was one person whose absence was particularly noted by Vitus. He turned to his brother and sister-in-law, "I do not see, Titia. Where is she?"

Appia glanced to her husband, it seemed like she was nervous, at least to Vitus it did. But Proculus cleared his throat, "Uh, she is in Rome at the moment, Vitus."

"What? Uh, what is she doing in Rome?"

"She is assisting her father in a… delicate matter. She left not too long ago but made a vow to return as soon as she was done with her father."

"Oh, uh… alright, then."

Proculus handed his brother some parchment. "Here, your wife sent you this letter."

"She wrote me a letter?"

"She did," said Appia with a smile, her face was as radiant as Venus'. "It came a week ago. Go ahead, read for yourself."

He opened it up and read it carefully.

" _Vitus, my dear husband, I write this letter to you with my eternal love. I hear that your victory of the Suebi begins to draw to a close. I desire your victory to be swift and filled with glory so that you may return to me. We may not have spent as much time as I would have desired, but do know that in the short amount I have come to truly cherish you. I am blessed that Venus and Juno have given us a loving marriage and I pray to the Gods for your success and prompt return. I am honored to be called your wife. With my eternal love I decree unto you._

 _Titia of the Julii"_

Appia asked him, "So what is the letter about?"

"She… She says that she loves and misses me."

"Such is truly sweet."

"Such is truly strange." He said with a furrowed brow. "This does not seem like her, but… it is a comforting letter though." He folded it up and excused himself, he knew a dinner was to be prepared so he best go to his bedchamber to change and bathe before the dinner. His family gave him warm smiles and allowed him to be excused.

Into his bedchambers stood a young man about seventeen in age, he was slightly taller than Vitus and held wide-shoulders yet held a submissive look in his eyes. His name was Evandrus and he was Vitus' personal slave. Evandrus stood pleased, "It lifts heart that you have returned victorious, _Dominus_."

"I feel the same, Evandrus," he amiably patted the slave on the arm. "You look well, Evandrus, it looks as if you have been eating well since I left."

"I have, yes, but, uh… _Dominus_? A question, if I may? For what purpose would you have me remain in Arretium while you were off to war?"

Vitus took a seat on his bed, taking off his boots. His sore buttocks missed the comfort of his bed. "How would you assist me? I needed soldiers, not slaves. Your utility would be better suited here in Arretium than in Germania."

"As you say, _Dominus_. I just desired to accompany you is all." He moved to take off Vitus' cape and armor, yet Vitus held out a hand.

"I am fine, Evandrus, I've done this before."

"But… I…"

He sighed, "Alright, very well."

A smile rose on the slave's face, he moved to his master and began unfastening the straps and hooks of his crimson cape and armor. Vitus took a look outside from his bedchambers in the palace to the sprawling city. The people were celebrating with vigorous rapture, all smiles and songs. An easy smile came to his face. He did well in protecting their territory, he did well in protecting his home.

* * *

It was the mid-morning hour of the market day for the Great Forum and business was flowing with hundreds of men and women crowding the establishment. And within such hours, Vitus found himself shopping with Statius; Evandrus following his master close behind.

Upon his return last night, he had enjoyed a luxurious feast upon his reunion with his family, telling them about his adventures and recounting what it was like fighting barbarians to his young nephew. His legion would have an entire week's rest before commencing with training once again. Vitus decided it be best to sleep through most of the day, finally not worrying about barbarian infiltrators slipping in through the night and slitting his throat.

He **was** planning on this, but his cousin, Statius, came to his bedchambers two hours after first light and woke him up. And thanks to his military lifestyle, once Vitus woke up, he stayed up. Statius then urged him to follow him into the Grand Forum. After nearly a year from "decent" civilization, it was somewhat strange to be back in a crowded, urban environment. Instead of wearing armor constantly, he now wore an austere crimson tunic with gold inlaid in the helm and black patterns inlaid in the sleeves. He had an angusticlavia—a narrow stripe running down the tunic—that was solid black with a flickering of gold that denoted his status of that above the plebeians.

"For what manner have you dragged me out here, Statius?" Vitus asked, half-amused.

"I need your opinion on a most delicate matter. I seek your help in finding an exotic pet."

"Oh, uh, sure… What kind of pet of exotic nature do you seek?

"A monkey."

" 'A monkey'? For what purpose do you desire a monkey for?"

"I've met the most charming of women in the city and she wields an eye for beauty. I heard that she is fond of animals. So I desire to find her a monkey in hopes of her affections."

"Why ask me in matters of courtship? Why not Proculus?" His brother had once bedded eight girls within a week when they were younger. If anyone knew about courtship, it was certainly him.

Statius chuckled with a shake of the head, "I do not possess the physical appeal of your brother, nor do I have his silver tongue. I also believe he would recommend me taking her to a tavern and fucking her later that night as if she was a whore."

Vitus' lips tightened, "Indeed that does sound like something he would say."

"So this monkey shall be a charming gift to her to secure her affection. You are here because I need your discernable eye. Inspect this monkey with me and see if it fairs better than the monkeys in Germania."

"There are no monkeys in Germania."

He frowned, "Truly? I was told that the forests in Germania are bleak and cold, housing creatures of shadow and bizarreness, yet of an exotic nature."

Vitus had to hold back a rowdy laugh. "They are bleak and cold, that aspect is truth. But 'creatures of shadow and bizarreness', considerably less so. Deer, boars, wolves, bears, foxes, squirrels, goats, hares, and owls; not quite bizarre I'm afraid. If you care for exotic beasts, take her to Africa, apparently the Scipii make a mountain of gold selling strange chimera-like animals across the Republic."

"Those prospects of animals are grim."

Vitus shrugged, "Eh, grim animals for a grim place."

"I do desire that it is a tame creature. I do hope it doesn't bite."

Vitus chuckled, "Of course it bites, it's an animal."

"Well that's disappointing. For what purpose did I bring you then?" he finished with a joke.

"I begin to wonder such myself." Vitus exhale noisily and scratched his auburn hair, "Listen, Statius, how about you decide on this alone, I see something else I should buy over there."

"Oh alright, be quick, I may need your help with the cage if I buy this thing."

He separated from Statius and walked amongst the crowd, he inhaled with relief. Why Statius would decide to buy a monkey as a gift for a woman was beyond him. In fact, besides the token gift of jewelry and clothes, Vitus was rather unfamiliar in what women would want. He guessed it depended on the woman; his wife, after all, asked him for something pretty unique upon her return.

"Perusing for a gift for the _Domina_?" Evandrus asked.

"Do not worry about that. For I have already found a gift that she asked me to give her."

Evandrus blinked, taken back by the comment. "Apologies for inquiring but when did you have chance to acquire such a gift?"

"From the campaign, it was what she requested I give her on the eve I left for battle."

"Oh, so what is—"

"Help me! HELP!"

The young man brought his head up to the commotion that seemed to come from down the ways of the Forum. Many of the customers swiveled their heads to the noise as well, murmuring loudly on what was going on.

"Leave me be! I beg you!" the shouting continued.

Feminine shrieks rose into the air, as the crowded Forum began to part in half, the commotion was coming into clearer view. He was a portly man who was middle-aged and wore a grey tunic that had exquisite golden inlets around the seams, a sign of his wealth and prestige. Yet he was clutching his stomach as he ran, knocking over stalls and spilling food everywhere. He scrambled to his feet, but slipped occasionally on his own blood that was leaking from several wounds in his stomach, leaving a horrid trail behind him.

"Move! Out of the way!"

The angered cry came from where the bleeding man initially was. A gang of six men with long daggers were rushing through the Forum, their eyes on the wounded man.

"There he is!" one of them shouted.

"Do not let him escape!" ordered another one.

The wounded man fell by the Legatus' side, his hand grasping Vitus' tunic. Evandrus moved to separate the bloody man from his master. Tears were in the bleeding man's eyes from the pain. "Make them cease! I beg of you! Please!" He plopped to the ground, convulsing.

" _Dominus_ , step back!" Evandrus begged.

"No." Vitus stepped in front of the wounded man, drew his sword and snarled, "Stand down! You men stand down!"

The gang of six stopped and bared their daggers at him. "Who the fuck are you?" the leader sneered. "You dare interfere?"

"Take pause, Gnaeus… I believe I recall his face…" said one of the knifemen.

"As do I…" said another.

One of the men's eyeballs shrunk in fear. "Sons of Dis! His eyes, that's Julius Germanicus! He arrived just yesterday!"

The leader instantly bowed, "Excuse my insolence, Julius. I meant no offense."

"You seek to kill this man? Lay down your weapons immediately!" Vitus shouted.

"B-B-But we are obligated to do so."

"What?"

"Germanicus, this man is proscribed to die. And we seek his head. We mean no offense, but please step aside."

"What are you talking about?"

The wounded man was trembling, the olive color of his skin was leaving his flesh. He stammered, "Ple-Plea-Please save me… ple-plea-please save me… I beg of you, I can p-p-pay—"

"Vitus!"

Statius came running by, as did the men of the Town Watch. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"These knifemen seek to murder this man, Statius!"

"But Heir Statius, we commit no crime!" the leader pleaded. "That man was proscribed. Titus Parnus Dento was on the proscription."

Statius' mouth fell. "Oh…"

Vitus looked to the bleeding man and back to his cousin, "Statius, what does he mean?"

Statius looked down at the wounded man, and sighed with an air of regret. "This man **is** Titus Parnus Dento, and his name was on the list." He looked to the knifemen and nodded solemnly, "Carry on."

"What?! Statius?!"

Statius grabbed his arm, "Vitus, move aside and let them finish their work."

"But he—"

"Statius?!" the dying man sobbed, "No-no-no-no-no, ple-plea…"

His life fled with his breath.

Statius was squirming, trying hard to keep himself composed in front of the crowd. He swallowed hard and looked away, his voice aimed at his cousin, "Is he—"

Vitus had seen plenty of this in the past three years of his martial life. "He is dead."

The leader of the gang approached the Julii, "So… may we uh…?"

Statius sighed. "You may. My men shall see to it that you are compensated."

Vitus grasped his cousin's shoulder. "I do not understand what is happening? You allow these men to walk away with murder?!"

"Many things have occurred since you were away, Vitus. Let us return to the palace, and my father and I shall inform you."

They walked away. Behind him, Vitus could hear the groans and shrieks of disgust from women. Over his shoulder, he noticed one of the killers position himself over the dead man and brought his sword down on his neck. The head rocked from side-to-side from the momentum of the chop. One of the killers laughed, "Good. Now find a box of salt for transport. I do hope he is worth considerable coin!"

* * *

"It was barbaric. Six men chasing one man down, in the middle of the bloody Forum. And no man or women lift a finger to aid the man. They just observed his gory demise. And they gazed at me as if I was a villain for interfering."

Proculus sighed heavily. Statius looked ashamed as he sat next to his father. Yet Decius' face was firm like iron as he had his slave pour him a cup of wine. He reclined on his couch in the triclinium—the dining area of the home—and snacked on a tray of fruit brought out to him.

"Uncle, why do you not look perturbed by this?"

"Apologies, Vitus. But through this frequency of violence, it has a harrowing way to… desensitize. This is the way the Republic is now. You have not heard since you were away on the campaign against the Suebi."

"Statius said the same thing, but what has happened?"

Proculus exhaled after drinking some wine, sitting next to Vitus on the couch. "Sulla happened."

"What about Sulla?"

Decius cleared his throat before he spoke. "As Dictator, Sulla has enacted proscriptions throughout the entire Republic. Any citizen with their name found upon the list written by Sulla and hung out in front of the Forum is to be outlawed as an "Enemy of the State" and denied the protection of Roman law. Their citizenships are revoked, their property is seized by the state, and their lives are forfeited. Many of them have been killed by other citizens and their heads rest upon the spikes of the Forum; few have escaped and decided to live in exile. Most of these men were allied at one point or another with Marius. When Marius seized Rome five or six years ago, he had his soldiers kill supporters of Sulla. And now Sulla does the same in retaliation."

 _Gaius Marius_ , Vitus thought. _The reformer of the Roman Army, the legendary seven-timed Consul, friend of his father. A great man who the Gods afflicted with madness from a stroke. He and Sulla, once allies and friends, became bitterest foes and had shed blood all over the Republic._

"But it does not stop there." Statius stepped in. "Not all the doomed men are enemies of Sulla… He has killed wealthy patricians in Rome and with luxurious estates and business. Their coin fills his coffers, especially after the cost-draining war he fought in. He also does so to reward his own veterans and those patricians who served him well. Yet death does not come only to those sentenced. If any man or woman is caught aiding the proscribed, then they too are sentenced to death. The dead cannot even be given privilege of a proper funeral."

Proculus' lips tightened. "He certainly lived up to his boast. How did it go, Vitus? 'I am a blessing to my friends'…?"

" 'But a reckoning to my foes.'" Vitus finished. His head was flushed with such news that came to him. The image of Sulla formed in his mind's eye. "How long have these killings gone on?"

"They still continue, but they started about a month after you left, Vitus," his brother had said. "Thousands upon thousands lie dead from these proscriptions. The city of Rome itself weeps from the pools of blood that is being spilt. Paranoia about who shall die next engulfs the city. Many prominent families have fled the peninsula in utter fear, leaving all they have and choosing the path of exile rather than death. The citizens that hold anything of value that can be seen as fortunate—such as a lovely garden—may find his name on the list. There's also suspicions that are going around that some innocence are ending up dead because the murderers "claim" they aided the proscribed—even though one victim who was innocent was known to be a hated enemy of the murderer—nothing can be proven and by time evidence is gathered, the innocent is already slain. All of this is usually just to settle bad blood."

Statius spoke, "But other cities as well are not safe from proscriptions. At the end of every month, a list goes out to every major city in the Italian peninsula with a list about thirty names of the condemned. Be it Julii, Brutii, or Scipii; all cities receives these. Sulla has many enemies, and much desire for estate."

Decius' heavy eyes fell to the wine in his goblet, "He personally came to see me about adding Sertorius' name on the list. It is common knowledge to everyone that Sulla and Sertorius despise one another. Yet Sulla was wary because Sertorius holds governorship of Hispania and has his own legions that are loyal to him. To add his name may cause another civil war between Sertorius in Hispania and Sulla in Rome."

"And you said no, correct?" Vitus asked.

"I did. I vehemently protested against adding Sertorius' name. Not only would doing such an action force Sertorius into war, but he is an honorable and just man, and a valuable general. To have him killed to appease Sulla would be a grave injustice towards the man. It was not easy to convince him, but I made my case passionately, and he rescinded… reluctantly."

Proculus drank from his cup, "If Sertorius desires to survive, he best stay in Hispania with all his men. He crosses into Italia by himself and I imagine Sulla may have him killed immediately."

 _I figured that was why he choose not to return, but_ , Vitus thought. _But did Sertorius know about these killings, and if so, why did he not tell me?_

Vitus shook his head softly, "Sulla… How could he do this?!"

Statius offered Vitus a cup of wine. "Because he is the Dictator. And it was us, the Julii, which aided him into that position."

"Begrudgingly aided him." Decius added.

"Though aided him nonetheless, Father. And such we have little right to criticize what he does since we put him in such position."

"Ha!" Proculus scoffed, his smile a mix of amusement and offense. "What a weak-willed statement, Statius. For is it not the right of a republic to criticize those they elected who had fail them? Marius was killing many people when he had power, and now Sulla is doing the same damn thing. We had just replaced one brutal man with another, except this time he wields absolute authority."

"We didn't hold a choice, cousin."

"There is always a choice, Statius. And we made ours."

 _That we did._ This was not the first time that Sulla marched against Rome. The first time Sulla marched on Rome, he was denied the honor of hosting an Eastern Army to defeat the Pontic King, Mithridates VI, by his once one-time friend but now hated rival, Gaius Marius. Sulla waged war and won, exiling Marius and his loyal supporters to Africa. After the civil war, Sulla left Italia to fight in the East, allowing Marius to return to Rome, declaring Sulla an outlaw and exile, and gaining his seven consulship—which he would not enjoy since he died two weeks after winning the consulship.

The second and most recent war against Rome was virtually fought over the same reason as the first one. With Mithridates defeated and with Marius dead, Sulla decided to return to Rome to regain control of the city. His opponent was Marius' own son, Gaius Marius Minor, the newly elected Consul. When Sulla landed his legions upon Italian soil, the call went out to the Three Families, yet they were all called to arms both by the Senate and by Sulla.

Sulla represented the Optimates, the conservative Senatorial majority of Roman society which generally supported the nobles. Marius represented the Populares, which favored the common people of Roman society to try to instill reforms to help the poor. The Scipii were traditionally conservative and wealthy and thus instantly sided with Sulla, in addition to Sulla's clan, the Cornelia, having a close blood tie to the Scipii. The Brutii were also among the Optimates but chose Sulla over the Senate since it was Sulla who aided the Brutii in repelling Mithridates and his Pontians.

The Julii, however, was the only Family of the Three Families to be traditionally with the Populares; yet Decius decided to fight for Sulla for several paramount reasons. Yes Gaius Marius the Younger was in the Populares faction, but he was not his martial father who had won several wars and reformed the entire Roman Army. Sulla was a proven general with a great mind for strategy. To face Sulla, the Brutii, and the Scipii was folly, especially when Sulla's other legions were marching across the far side of the Alps and could flank the Julii. And so Decius abandoned his principles for the common people to stay off annihilation.

Sertorius was furious. He never held a liking for Sulla and before Sertorius was adopted, it was known that Sulla ruined his political career. Sertorius threatened to desert to the Marian cause; yet Decius had personally came to see Sertorius and spoke to him in great length in private. What he said to Sertorius, he never repeated, only Sertorius knew what was said. It pained him greatly, but Sertorius decided to fight alongside the Julii in Sulla's war.

Sulla's Second Civil War was greater than the first, but lasted half a year due to the aid of the Three Families. Vitus fought in several battles against the Senators and won resounding glory, yet he never felt glorious in slaying fellow Romans. Marius the Younger was besieged by Sulla in the final battle and as Sulla's forces won, Marius tried to escape but was caught. He fell on his sword instead of surrender. With all his enemies destroyed, Sulla took the mantle of dictatorship and thus came to power.

Proculus spoke up, "It has been almost a year and these proscriptions are still coming in at a steady rate. It makes you ponder if Sulla is paranoid because of power? Trying to wipe out all threats, real or imagined."

Decius made a low grunt. "I doubt he is. In my dealings with the man, I have not known him to succumb to the ravages of paranoia. He is a calculating sort, always trying to determine his best course of action. A man like him builds schemes upon schemes as a builder builds brick upon his foundation. He's ruthless and can be known as quite unpredictable. He **knows** what he wants, and that is order. And for order to exist from a previous administration, the slate must be wiped clean."

"But then again, Uncle…" Proculus said. "Power consumes, bends, and even breaks the mind… who knows what he has become."

"None of you have visited Rome?" Vitus asked.

"I did," Proculus answered. "Two months ago when Sulla made a motion to ratify the new age restriction for offices of the _cursus honorum_."

"Wait? You were at the Senate House?"

"As was I," Statius added. "Sulla did many things in your absence. He completely reformed the constitution of the Republic. He destroyed what dignity the Tribune of the Plebeians had in the Senate, essentially stripping all veto power away from the office. Such actions rendered the people of Rome powerless in face of the patricians, it is downright sacrilege. And as Dictator, Sulla had increased the size of the Senate. He added over 300 men as senators.

"He also chose to reward the Three Families and those who supported him. So he added twenty members each from the Julii, Brutii, and the Scipii." A small smirk grew on Uncle Decius' face. "You know, Vitus, because of Sulla's reform, your own cousin and brother now stand senators of the Republic."

"Proculus, you're a senator?!"

Proculus chuckled with a bob of his head. "Senator Proculus Julius. Has not a more luxurious title ever been uttered?"

"I am stunned."

Statius chuckled. "So was everyone when Sulla made the announcement. And with his title of Dictator and his proscriptions, no man dared protested openly."

"This is my first step in climbing the _cursus honorum_. Maybe in three years I can run for the office of Quaestor?" Proculus mused.

Vitus shook his head in wonder, "Wow… Anything else that had occurred?"

Decius, Proculus, and Statius shot looks at each other. Decius said, "Indeed, two months ago, an insidious plague had hit Italia."

"A plague…?" Since he was gone, there have been massacres in the Republic, a vast expansion of the Senate, and now plagues? At this point, if they had told Vitus that Jupiter ripped opened the sky and dangled his cock over the mortals, he wouldn't have been surprised. What a difference a year had made. "Gods, of course there was a plague…"

Decius continued, "The plague came from the north, from Mediolanum. And since we Julii hold territory in the North, of course we were hit first by it. Then it went down to Rome, then down to Brutii lands and Scipii lands. We estimate that around 60,000 people have already died throughout the Italian peninsula."

"60,000…" the words left Vitus' mouth in a breathless tone.

"Fortuna blessed us though," said his brother. "The plagued has currently passed from Mediolanum, Arretium and Arrinium in the previous week. But Rome is still heavily inflicted with it."

Statius extended his goblet out to be refilled with wine, "I talk to the people in the Forum and they claim that citizens in Rome are beginning to believe that the plague was caused by the Gods for Sulla's bloodshed."

"The gods do everything. Yet I believe this mere coincidence."

"I don't know, Father, the plebs are starting to believe this is no coincidence, and when they start voicing their beliefs…"

Vitus rubbed his mouth with his hand in concern, "And Titia is in Rome."

Proculus sucked on his teeth. "She is, do you recall when I broke words about her leaving for Rome?"

"Yes, to aid her father and— Wait… her father contracted the plague?"

"He had."

His hands shot into the air in exasperation, "For what purpose did you hide this from me?"

"Yesterday was such a grand affair for you, Vitus. I did not seek to sour the mood of your victorious return. So I planned to tell you the next day, which I currently have."

"Gods below," he cursed softly. "I have been gone for nearly a year, and madness and death have engulfed the Republic. If I wanted this insanity, I would have remained in Germania…"

Proculus patted his shoulder. "Welcome back, Vitus."

Vitus placed his elbows in his knees and his face into his hands, his mind coursing faster than a river. After half a minute, he turned around to Evandrus, who was standing silently behind him. "Evandrus, pack my belongings, make it light, enough for three to four days. Then find Ligadis and tell him to pick four good men to accompany me, him included."

"Your will, _Dominus_." He bowed then promptly exited.

"You're packing for four days? To where do you go?" his brother asked.

"To Rome."

Statius objected, "Rome is still ravaged by plague, Vitus. You should wait until the epidemic has died away."

"I shall not wait, I am going to see my wife."

"But Vitus, it's—"

"You're not going to stop him, Statius." Proculus said with a soft smirk. "I've seen that look in his eye many times. Titia should still be in her father's home. Do you remember where it was?"

"I do."

His brother sighed, "Mother is not going to like this, Vitus."

He sighed too. "I know she won't, but I'll feel safer if Titia is here, and also I would seek to know the status of her father." He looked to Decius, "Uncle, you understand I need to—"

"Go, Vitus. I understand. I believe it better if you stayed, but… I understand. Do you leave now?"

"No, I would leave at first light tomorrow."

"Then I shall extend you the best of luck, Vitus, and do be careful. The city is unstable I beg you to be careful."

"Such is why I am bringing my Thracians, Uncle. I shall be fine. And if everything is fine with her and her family, then I shall bring her back as well."

* * *

 **Let's head to Rome...  
**

 **I am glad that I am able to write about the Julii capital and other members of the Julii family**

 **Doing research for this was pretty interesting, discovering how Sulla could organized the murders of so many citizens because he held the title of Dictatorship was kind of eye opening.**

 **Thank you for reading**

 **-Kanuro5**


	4. Reunions

**Kanuro5** : Ah, good to be back in Rome! I decided to play Rome 1 again with the Julii, hoping to relive my childhood with this game. Anywho, enjoy!

* * *

 **IV**

 **Reunions**

Vitus had come past the Servian Wall of Rome with the guards of the Town Watch advising him to be careful. He nodded; he was not wearing his armor or crimson cape, but a simple red tunic with a dark cloak over him that covered his sword and dagger. He carried Titia's gift in hand. Along with Vitus was his slave, Evandrus. His bodyguards stood Ligadis, Uxpho, Pytros, Kersos, and Brinkainos. Their horses were hitched to the Cavalry Stables on the opposite of the Caelian Hill, where Equestrians could hitch their horses when they entered and exited Rome. Upon entering into the most powerful city in the world, one word stuck out to Vitus.

Bleak. Such was how he would call the once thriving city. Damn bleak. It had rained considerably yesterday, and with the summer heat of Italia, the humidity hung in the air. So thick was it that many people were fanning themselves and began to perspire. The city that held around 800,000 was sunken into a quagmire of melancholy. The plague saw to that.

Men and women were still about their business within the city, except moving with caution to not touch anything contaminated. They had pieces of cloth on their faces to mask the smell of foulness that was in the air. In certain alleyways, Vitus witnessed the casualties of the plague. They were stacked on top one another, draped in black blankets and a sign posted that read, "Place here for burning." He recalled as he left Arretium from the _Via Cassia—_ one of the many main roads of Rome _—_ that as he approached the city, they were burning the bodies out in giant ditches with mourning family members overseeing the burnings. And his wife was in this city, among this affliction.

Titia… It was the standard Roman marriage. Arranged. Vitus' family wanted him married and desired a woman of high blood and a wealthy family. Vitus wasn't really seeking a wife, not for the reason of staying single but simply that he was often preoccupied with retraining his Legion to be thinking about marriage. But when his uncle went to him and told him that they had a suitable girl for him to marry, Vitus made no protest and simply agreed to it—secretly hoping that she could have the beauty of his sister-in-law and/or be a pleasant, charming, or agreeable person.

His intended was Titia Valerius, son of Titus Valerius, the owner of several stone quarries within the Latium region, and thus made him immensely rich; upon hearing such, Vitus knew why his uncle chosen her for him to marry. The dowry was very large, befitting one of the richest men in the Republic; but a good sum of it was given over to the Patriarch, and another sum was kept by Titia in case she and Vitus divorced—which was usually common when either party saw an advantage in marrying someone else. Vitus saw some of the dowry and most of it he had to give to his soldiers to pay their wages.

They spent only two days together as a married couple, their wedding day and the day after. For it was the day of their wedding that Odavacar attacked the Julii territory. And it was hours after Vitus and Titia consummated their marriage that he was told of the Germanic invasion. On the day following, he rallied the Twenty-Eighth Legion and kissed his new wife goodbye. Though they were just married, he remembered her glum face upon his leaving and a slight cursing of the Germanians for taking him away. But he promised that he would see her again and give her what she asked of him.

It took him a while to pass through the packed crowd of people, but he and his retinue of men eventually crossed into his destination. The Palatine Hill—the central hill—the most expensive property in Rome. Only the most elite and richest families had such real estate on the Palatine Hill. Luxurious homes stood proud and dignified against the backdrop of the gloomy grey sky. There were dead birds on the ground and sick bulls pulling carts and wagons weakly. The plague had touched here as well, yet not as severely as the rest of the city apparently. The citizens of the Palatine still draped their mouths with cloth, yet they seemed to holster a blither attitude than the ordinary lower-class citizen.

Vitus had just crossed the alley and entered the street where her family's home should be, and then he heard feminine shrieks and grunts from close by. Four girls—who looked to be of sixteen years—were fighting with one another in the middle of the street. Actually it was three-on-one by the looks of it, and the singular girl was winning. She grabbed the hair of one girl, punched a second girl in the face, and then kicked the third one in the leg. Men around them were laughing; older women were shaking their heads in disappointment, yet no one was intervening to stop the fight. The girl with her hair grabbed tried to wrangle out of her grasp, but the singular girl punched her twice in the face, drawing blood from her nose and threw her into the dirt. The two other girls picked her up and they were scampering away.

"That's right! You bitches better flee from me!" shouted the triumphant girl.

One of the fleeing girls with a bloody nose had shrieked with tears in her eyes, "You'll rue the day you attacked us, my father shall call the guards upon you and your house!"

"Good! Do it, see if I care, you pathetic pig!" she yelled back at them. "Do not dare to fucking insult my father!"

Vitus recognized the victorious girl. He sighed with a blush, noticed the murmuring crowd around her giving her stares of disapproval for her vulgarity. Vitus rubbed the back of his head with a half-smirk and approached her, "Well it lifts the heart to see that you're making friends in my absence."

Her face immediately softened upon recognizing him. "Oh Vitus! You're back!" She brushed her hand with her hair, then immediately gave him a sour sneer. "What took you so long?!"

"Uh, with what?"

"With slaying those execrable Suebi! Almost a year it took you."

He chuckled smugly, "There was a great deal many of them. 30,000 at total count. It was my mistake not sending you." His chuckle then turned to laughter, "You would have placed the fear of death into their hearts."

"Damn right I would, but now I stand here putting fear of death—" She moved her head and yelled down the street where the three girls retreated, "Into the cold, blackened hearts of worthless worms!"

"You would have made a wonderful centurion if you had been born a man, do you know that?"

She crossed her arms with a grin, "Truly, Vitus? Is such a way you greet your wife? Saying what she could have been if she was a man?"

He then folded his arms too and raised an eyebrow, "Hmm, I do not know, Titia. Is saying, 'Oh, Vitus, what took you so long?' Is such a way to greet _your_ husband returning from war? I guess we are both in the wrong then."

She walked closer to him, "Oh Vitus, you should know that in marriage, the wife is **never** wrong." She opened her arms out and both of them fell into one another with a hug with soft laughter.

Upon breaking their light hug, Titia noticed how several members of the crowd were staring at them. "What are you all looking at?!" she shrieked. The crowd began to look away, while others dispersed.

"You would think that their mothers taught them how impolite it is to stare," she said in a mild pout.

"And I would have thought _your_ mother would have taught you to control your behavior."

She grinned and flexed her eyebrows up, "Ha! She tried, in your absence."

Titia was of the esteemed Valerii clan, a family whose prominence dated back to the very beginning of the Republic. They were among the pinnacle of the patrician class and they're family was around the 5th Wealthiest Families in the Republic—the Julii had the distinction of being the 7th wealthiest. Titia Valerius was a girl of sixteen with dark brown hair that bordered on black, her nose was hooked of the proper Aquilan style that showed everyone that she had proper Roman blood in her, her breast were of moderate size, her arms and legs were slender and smooth to the touch, yet her face was that of simple plainness.

In some matters, Titia had a fierce, unbridled temper that could scare the gods, such a personality made it challenging for her parents to present as the "proper" Roman woman for marriage. Proculus joked with Vitus that if he could tame barbarians, than he could "tame" this woman. She could put up an air of poise that was seen in most highborn Roman women when she cared to, but only if she cared to. When she gave a glare to those who angered her, her face contorted to that of a Gorgon on her monthly flow. Yet underneath the iron that she built up for herself, there was a sweet nature that could be shown to her family and trusted friends.

Though Vitus and Titia were on good terms for an arranged marriage, neither of them was in that experienced stage of marriage to harbor true love between one another; for they only knew the other for a short time. Nor was it the romantic talk of youth to have fallen in love at first sight. But it would be a foul lie to say that a certain degree of fondness did not exist between them.

"So, for what purpose are you at my home, Vitus?"

"Your letter informed me how much you desired to see me upon my return."

"Uh, my letter?"

"Indeed, you wrote me a letter."

Her face was scrunched in confusion. "Uh, Vitus, I did no such thing..."

"What?"

"I had never composed a letter for you."

"You did, I have it here. See?"

He dug in his pouch and handed her the folded parchment. She unfolded it and began reading it aloud, her eyes growing larger as she kept reading.

"What is this?!" she said as she finished. She looked at her husband, "I did not write this, this is not even my penmanship! How could you receive—" Vitus could see the wheels in her mind turning. She gnashed her teeth and crumbled the paper in her hand. She turned back to her home and shouted, "MOTHER!"

The doors of her home opened, and a stunning woman in her mid-30s with cloth covering her mouth, came rushing out with her trail of slaves behind her. "For what reason do you scream in the street! Have you lost mind?! I believe I taugh— Bona _Dea!_ What happened to your face? Did you get into another fight? Did some afflicted man breathe on you?! By Jove, what am I to do with—"

She finally took note of Vitus standing beside her. She noticed his eyes and her mouth fell.

"Vitus! You are here! When did you arrive?"

"Uhh…" he scratched the back of his head, "About a minute ago."

Titia was scowling at her, "Mother—"

"Oh if only you had sent a letter, I would have had the slaves tidy up for your arrival."

"Mother…"

"What is it, Titia?"

The young woman flung the parchment at her mother, "Explain! Vitus claims that such a letter was written by my hand and such signature bares my name. And yet, I do not recall writing such a letter…"

The mother grabbed it and chuckled awkwardly as she looked to her daughter then to her son-in-law. "How would it look if you have not sent any letter of concern to your valiant husband?"

"I do not care for looks! And he is not your husband, Mother, he is mine. And I am no poet, besides," she cocked a knowing smirk, "They say he is the greatest swordsman of the Julii, I had faith that he would survive."

He blushed a little, "Oh really, gratitude for such words… but who are 'they'?"

She looked to him, "The people, of course. They love to gossip, when I resided in Arretium, they all spoke about your campaign and several veterans from your Samarobriva campaign attested your skill with the blade. So I had utter confidence in your return."

He was really blushing now, "That is interesting. Um, well, I do not consider myself the "greatest", there are several soldiers under my command that are better than I."

"Modesty, a fine virtue in a man," came the compliment from the mother. "Would you join us inside, Vitus? The winds carry pestilence, hurry!"

* * *

Vitus told his Thracians to wait outside as he entered. What a majestic place they lived in, the interior was decorated with the most exotic of murals depicting several renowned Valerii conquering foreign enemies, to mighty stags being felled by a dashing huntsman, even the ceiling was decorated with colorful murals of a luxurious flower garden that seemed to be blessed by Ceres in which they towered until they reached the navy blue sky that was painted. From the ceiling dangled majestic embroidered hangings, from the floors were raised beautiful pedestals of the most inlaid golden designs and fabulous tables cut from the most exquisite wood. Vitus' eyes wandered around the home in wonder.

"Vitus?" said her mother.

"Huh? Oh, apologies, what were you saying?"

Inside the atrium were about 20 slaves, all wearing pristine clothing and groomed to impeccable form. They stood at a natural rest with plates of food in their hands. "I asked if you were hungry, Vitus? I can fetch you apricots, shallots, sausage, snails, oysters, or even dormice if you would like?"

 _Dormice? These people_ _ **are**_ _wealthy…_ "Gratitude for the offer but I am fine, I ate before I came." Vitus was a soldier, an ordinary meal of bread and stew would suffice perfectly for him. He did wonder how Titia would enjoy herself with him, not being served such lavish food every day.

"So when did you return to Italia?" Titia asked, taking a seat on a couch.

"Eh, about five days ago. I returned my legion to Arretium and was greeted with a most surprising celebration for the conquest of the Suebi. I thought you would have been there."

The mother took a bite from a piece of apricot, "Your Uncle sent word of such. We would have attended, truly we would have. Yet my husband has fallen ill, apologies…"

Vitus noticed Titia sucking her bottom lip and looking away.

"I heard he was stricken with the plague?"

"He was, yes. We thought to escape to the countryside with the rest of the patricians, yet my husband insisted staying within the city to secure his investments… I swear, that man…"

"May I see him, to pay respects?"

"Certainly. Titia, wait here. Vitus, if you would follow me. But take one of these cloths from the slaves and cover your mouth. Like I said, it sometimes travels in the air."

"I want to see him too," Titia said.

"I know you do, but just allow Vitus the courtesy."

"But I wan—"

"Titia!"

"Alright…"

Titia's mother escorted Vitus through the elaborate halls of their home and into the spare bedchamber that was used as quarantine. A thick piece of cloth was covering the door and they both entered, Vitus spotting three men treating one of the richest men in Rome, Titus Valerius. He was a man of portly size, yet was a tall man with the lines of many years on his face. His eyes were closed and wheezes exited his fleshy lips. He had a wet cloth draped over his forehead and the burning of incense bedecked the entire bedchamber. A small brazier was lit beside him and the heat was causing him to sweat profusely and his chest to heave sporadically.

"Has he regained consciousness?" Vitus asked the mother.

"He has. He was awake early. He is doing much better today; he was even able to rise up in his bed. The _medicus_ claims that the plague may be passing him, but do not get too close to him. He had sweat most of the toxin from his body. I believe _Apollo Medicus_ heard our prayers and bestowed natural medicine in form of our pious daughter."

"What do you mean?"

"Titia loves her father." Her smile was full of radiance. "When she heard he contracted the plague and his health faltered, she immediately came back here and stood vigil over him from a safe distance. If she had her way, she would be by his bedside; I had to say everything to keep her away from him. Titus often spoiled her when she was younger. Many girls would take advantage of their father's generosity, even I did to mine. But not Titia. She truly loved him for giving her what she wanted and accepting her… willful nature. She stayed where we are staying and prayed, I was not even aware that my daughter was pious. She stayed and prayed for him and he began to recover."

" _Our_ Titia?"

She giggled lowly, "I know. But I am grateful to her prayers. Titus is recovering, the _medicus_ ensures it." A silence grew between them and she motioned for Vitus to follow her back to the atrium where Titia was waiting.

"Was Father awake?"

"No, he is still resting, Titia. Just be at peace."

"Oh, alright…" Titia's eyes fell to the item he was carrying. "Vitus, what is that you are carrying with you?"

"Oh, of course! It had passed my mind. This is a gift for you, Titia."

Her mother gushed. "A gift? What is it, where did you procure it?"

"From the war with the Suebi."

"What is it? Exotic jewelry from those odious Germanians?"

He chuckled weakly, "Uh, not quite. Here, Titia."

He handed the daughter a long solid item wrapped in a cloak. Titia was surprised by its weight. She began to unwrap it.

"I would be careful," Vitus added.

She took his advice and slowed down in unwrapping it. She unveiled it. Titia gasped in disbelief, while her mother exploded in anger.

"A sword?! You offer a sword to my fragile daughter? For what reason?!"

"Because she desired one. And such words of 'fragility', I…" He remembered the beating she gave to the three girls. "…I would not use."

"She what?!"

Titia was still staring at the sheathed sword. It was of medium length, slightly longer than a Roman _gladius_. The hilt was wrapped in soft leather with the middle of it being adorned with a beautiful grey gem. "I… I…" her eyes were soft and beautiful. She pulled it out halfway and marveled at its make. "I adore it, Vitus. I give thanks to you," she smiled.

Her mother grunted with a roll of her eyes. "Titia, you asked your husband for a sword?! What on Gaia's great Earth do you even plan to do with that?! Carve up some girls you despise like cabbage?"

She smirked wickedly, "Such is a tempting thought, mother. But no, this should rest upon the mantle in our bedchambers. I shall use no such weapon. It is merely pleasing to look at."

"Then why by the Furies did you ask your husband to fetch this for you, why not some barbarian jewelry?"

She scoffed at her mother, her teeth showing in her mouth. "Because, mother, many boys have offered me jewelry in the past, after the ninth, it slowly grows tedious. I wanted something… different."

"Wait? Other boys?"

Titia blushed, "I do not mean it like that, Vitus. Before our marriage, well… the boys around the Palatine and Caelian often offered to entreat me with jewelry, but I always refused them. Maybe I'm spoiled, but my father often gave me better ones. A handful of those boys gave me cheap and fake jewelry with lying tongues of its authenticity." She sighed in the recalling of those memories, but looked to Vitus, "I stand impressed that you remembered our conversation about a sword, we only spent a single night together before you had to leave."

"Well, I desired to make a good impression upon my return."

She smiled at him. Vitus thought her fierce brown eyes had turned sweet. "It was not good, but that of greatness." She walked up to him and planted a tender kiss on his cheek. Her mother threw up her hands in the air and groaned.

" _Domina! Domina!_ " a house slave came running towards his mistress. "There are soldiers at the door, they request an audience with you."

"S-Soldiers?"

Vitus and Titia exchanged glances. To him, her face was resolute yet her eyes were quivering, "I—I didn't expect those girls to actually get the guards…"

"My wayward daughter," her mother sneered, "If you have ruined us—" She followed the slave to the door and had it opened.

Vitus and Titia looked out the door from inside. In the courtyard, instead of the Town Watch, there stood ten legionaries armed with spears and shields, wearing the purple armor and capes of the Senate. They stood at attention and faced the door with faces of stone. At the front door was a centurion with his purple-plume crescent faced sideways.

"I am Seppia of the Valerii, how may I welcome you? If it is about my daughter, I offer the utmost apologies. She is going through a difficult time with her father—"

"I know not of what you speak, _Mea Domina_. We are not here for your daughter, Seppia Valerius."

"Oh, truly?" she exhaled. "Goodness. Then what is your purpose here?"

"Apologies for the visit, but we have heard news that Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus has entered your premises. I request you bring him out, posthaste."

All eyes of the Valerius household fell on Vitus. Titia asked him with fragile eyes, "Vitus, what have you done to be called by the soldiers?"

"I do not know. Truly I don't."

Upon exiting the home, the courtyard had been filled with curious onlookers, all judging whether he'll be another victim of the proscription or simply be arrested. Many were vocal about the Senate's dislike of the Julii and whether this will be the start of another civil war. What he wouldn't give to silence all this incessant murmurings.

His bodyguards stood behind him in a semicircle, eyeing the Roman soldiers with disdain. Vitus stood straight and looked the centurion in the eye. "Centurion."

"Are you Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus?"

"I am."

The centurion cleared his throat and announced with authority. "Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion, you are hereby summoned to stand before His Most Excellence, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, Dictator of The Republic, Imperator of the Eastern Legions."

Dead silence ruled the air.

 _Sulla… he wants me?_ "I have only been in the city for less than half an hour. H-How has Sulla become aware of my presence?"

"Such matters do not concern me, Legatus. What does concern me is your prompt arrival to the Forum to meet His Excellence. We shall escort you."

"Oh such is not necessary, Centurion. I believe I can find the Forum."

"The Dictator insists. The streets of Rome are filled with danger, so come. We leave immediately."

Ligadis stepped up, "Germanicus has stated that he does not require your escort."

"I do not answer to you," the centurion said curtly.

"Shall I repeat myself?" Ligadis approached closer, "He does not require your escort. Now step away."

"You dare intervene in the matters of the Senate?" the centurion sneered with his teeth. His squad of soldiers reached for their _gladii_ , as did the Thracian bodyguards. Men and women gasped loudly, some began to run away, others shielded their children's eyes for the incoming bloodshed. Vitus just sighed.

He raised a calming hand to the Thracians. "Hands off your swords," he commanded firmly but softly. "There is no call for violence. I… I shall go with you. But my men shall accompany me, Centurion."

The centurion glared at the barbarian bodyguards, but he nodded towards the Legatus. "Fine."

"Gratitude, yet allow me the courtesy of saying farewells to my extended family."

"Be quick."

The young Legatus turned around to be greeted by the worried expressions of his wife and mother-in-law.

"For what purpose has Sulla sent for you?" her mother asked

"I do not know." He said, scratching his cheek. "I am not even aware how he knew I entered Rome."

"Do you think he means you harm?"

"No, I don't. If such was true, I may have been killed as soon as he enters the city. And he knows me, I fought alongside him. He does not seek my life." _…Or does he? It has been a year, and if what Proculus, Statius, and Uncle Decius say about him is true…_ "I should be fine."

Titia opened her mouth and a soft voice exited, "When you have finished with Sulla, then…" her eyes rolled to the dirt, "Please come back to our home. Once you're finished." Her mouth suddenly tightened, "Just come back! If you skip out upon leaving Sulla, I'll—!"

He smiled softly and nodded, "Of course."

She looked back up at him, the corners of her mouth rose. "Legatus, we must go," said the centurion.

"Understood." He motioned to his Thracians to follow close behind, and the procession of Senatorial soldiers led Vitus through the crowded and bleak streets of Rome.

* * *

The noon day hour approached, the rays of the sun penetrated the grey clouds, illuminating the square of the Forum. He recalled a time where he was maneuvering through the crowded Forum in Rome several years ago, it seemed like thousands of people littered the market; but now that number seemed to be in the low hundreds. The place was so spacious with vendors swearing that their wares did not carry any pestilence to the weary consumers. If someone so much as coughed, they were beaten away with brooms and rods to ward off contagion. But the most ghastly sight was large spikes rising about fifteen feet high in the air surrounding the Forum, with decapitated heads mounting the blades—both of men and women.

"What are those heads up there for?" Vitus asked the centurion.

"Several of them are the proscribed, but most of them were the ones who were caught aiding the proscribed," he answered, it sounded as if he was bitter.

 _Sulla mounts them, in the Forum?_ He heard some light giggling to his right. Several adolescents were playing a game, who could be the first one to knock a head off the spikes by throwing stones at them. Bonus points if you could throw a stone into the gaping mouth of the decapitated.

Ahead of him, Vitus could see a crowd gathering around a certain stall. The senatorial soldiers were parting the way through the crowd and broke off into a parallel formation.

The centurion stopped and saluted, "Your Most Excellence, Centurion Flavio Mathus, reporting as ordered with Legatus Julius Germanicus!"

In the midst of the Forum, he was there, surrounded by 24 lictors, the Dictator of the Republic, Lucius Cornelius Sulla.

He was an old man in his late 50s, yet he looked older; Vitus figured that his hedonistic lifestyle of youth—which could put his brother's Proculus's earlier escapades to shame—had caught up with his figure. Sulla's slumped frame suggested that he once was tall and big in the prime of his youth, his once white teeth had yellowed and some were absent from his mouth entirely. He still had a vague attractiveness to him that once made him the heartthrob of women and some men in his formative years, but you had to look through it in the wrinkles of his face. His once full golden-red hair had whitened considerably into what seemed the same hue of snow and withered into thin strands above his scalp. He still carried a fire of gregarious spirit that he had when he was younger, and he enjoyed his walks and conversing with those that pleased him. He cavorted with many men and women of base character, and paid little mind to the talks around him about it. Yet despite his age and appearance, Vitus knew he was **the** wrong Roman to underestimate, he was still as cunning and ruthless as he was during his youth.

The old man turned to him, his eyes as fierce as steel but his mouth was filled with a beaming smile, "Vitus Julius, son of Lucius Julius Magnus!"

The crowd began to murmur. Vitus gulped softly, then stood straight and saluted him, "Dictator."

The dictator scoffed playfully and approached with his arms spread out, "Always so formal, Vitus. With you, call me, Sulla. Now come embrace me." He looked to his lictors. "Let him pass."

As a machine, the lictors opened up their circle and Vitus walked forward and hugged the Dictator and said to his ear, "As you will, Sulla."

Sulla kissed both of his cheeks. "Apologies, I do not address you properly. I hear you have gained the title ' _Germanicus_ ', been beating those Germanic curs out of our territories quite good, haven't you?"

"Hard fighting, Sulla. They gave us a tough year, but we outfought them all the way back to the Rhine. We do not believe the Suebi will be able to launch another attack for years."

Sulla chuckled, his voice was deep. "Spoken as a true soldier." He rested his hand upon Vitus' shoulder and addressed the crowd. "This here stands Germanicus, Victor of the Suebi, address him as proper victor."

The entire crowd began to applaud. It was slow at first but quickly grew in intensity. Sulla laughed jovially. Vitus looked on in uncomfortable silence. It bothered him to see the uneasiness and fear in the eyes of these civilians of Rome—being forced to applaud him with quaking hands and awkward cheers. Sulla treated him like a grandson, as he did with other young patricians who fought valiantly for him during his March on Rome. He was good friends with his father, Lucius Julius Magnus, and unfortunately couldn't make it to his funeral since he was forbidden to even set foot in Italia at the time, but upon meeting Vitus, he immediately offered condolences for the loss of "the Mightiest of Men."

"You must have been exhausted from walking the streets; do you care for some wine, Vitus?"

"Gratitude, but I am fine."

"As you desire." A slave filled his cup to the brim with a sweet wine that had been watered down. "I only seek to have you quenched before we continue our walk."

"To where are we going?"

"Back to my home. I desire to speak to you among less discerning eyes and ears."

Sulla patted Vitus on the back with a smile and walked forward with the young man. The lictors were still in a protective circle around the Dictator, the men in front were shouting for the crowd to make way for Sulla or face swift justice.

Sulla said to Vitus, "I ask of you to excuse the state of the city. This miserable plague has everything smelling like a battlefield. I heard Arretium is freed from it."

"You heard right. By the time I arrived, it was virtually gone. But Sulla, how have you not fled to the countryside to avoid this plague?"

"You ask me if I shall leave my own city in times of crisis? Ha! I have ventured down that road before, never again. Besides, I stand no craven, my presence in the streets inspire the people that if their Dictator shows no fear to pestilence, then why should they?"

They passed by several streets where the homeless of Rome were begging, most of them had the appearance of veteran soldiers, holding out a bowls for coins. Sulla personally broke his circle of lictors and threw several coins into every grateful bowl. They smiled and thanked him; Sulla gave them a smile, showing pieces of his missing teeth.

* * *

Sulla led Vitus up the Capitoline, the most prestigious hill in Rome. His home was exquisite, more splendid than Titia's families. It was large and wide and constructed of the finest wood that could be exported from Greece. Yet near the contours of the roof, Vitus noticed several heads mounted on spikes. _Here too?_ Vitus thought.

Upon entry, Sulla was greeted by many noble men and women; Vitus recognized some of them and then understood who everyone was. All of them were supporters of Sulla, those that survived Marius' killings and those that sided with Sulla in his march on Rome. They all knew and were joyous that they would not find their names on Sulla's proscriptions. All of them were in a festive party with the most exquisite dancers jumping and moving with utter grace, all sorts of rare delicacies being served, and an abundant of wine being offered to everyone there, none of it watered down.

"What is this for?" Vitus asked loudly, the music from the musicians blaring loudly.

Sulla patted the young man's back, "I walk among the plebeians to show them my courage against the plague, whilst I host parties with the patricians to show that I still hold control of the city. To stay afloat, one needs balance with everyone, Vitus! Come; let us find a more private room."

Sulla escorted Vitus through the menagerie of partiers within his home. The party seemed civil and quaint—what usually passes for a patrician party—at first, yet Vitus could clearly hear the drunken moans of sex in a room down the hall. He witnessed many people holding on to mask and pieces of costumes in their hands. Vitus felt that this day party would extend into night, and then become a truly raucous affair.

Sulla led Vitus into a decent sized _triclinium_ where several guests smiled and offered their toasts to Sulla. He smiled warmly before barking out, "Everyone, OUT!" They quickly nodded their heads and scampered out of the room, leaving only Vitus, Sulla, Evandrus and few of Sulla's slaves remaining.

"Ahhh, that is better." He motioned for Vitus to sit on the couch. A slave poured wine into Sulla's cup, and the old man sat comfortably on the couch opposite Vitus. He studied Vitus for a while, "So Vitus, offer reminder, you enter Rome and yet you do not send a messenger to me upon entry. For what purpose did you hide yourself from me?"

"Oh no, no, no, Sulla! Such was not my intent. I only came to—"

"Visit your wife," Sulla finished for him. He shrugged, "Such is understandable. You both are newlywed and you have been gone from her tender arms and her warm body for nearly a year, fighting in the bleak cold and damned forests of Germania. It is understandable for why you visit her. I do hope that I did not interrupt the reunion of your hard cock with her tight cunt." Those relaxed eyes then hardened, "Yet you did not answer my inquiry…"

"I did not expect you to care for my presence. I was gone from Italia for nearly a year and I heard you were Dictator, and that your mind was preoccupied with governance of Rome and—"

"You heard the tales of my proscriptions and alleged 'paranoia', am I not correct? Everywhere I look and listen, I hear others questioning my sanity, as if I was cursed with madness as Hercules was. That the gods have inflicted me because of my bloodletting. All these claims I hear, how I am known as "The Butcher of Rome". They seek to question me on what I do, their Dictator… So Vitus, do you stand friend to Sulla Felix and denounce these rumors as hated propaganda, or do you believe all these foul lies about my sanity?"

 _By Jove, that damn scowl of his…_ Sulla had a disturbing habit of his eyes lingering on anyone with waves of disappointment. He resembled a grandparent who caught their child in a devious act, and as the child stammered to lie or exaggerate, the grandparent would continue to stare on in silence in angered dissatisfaction. And yet, when Sulla's eyes laid on someone, his mouth would curl up in a smile of most innocence, as if he heard a wonderful joke from a lifelong friend. In combination with the bitter glare and tender smile, one could never truly tell what was going on in his mind as he looked upon you. It was joked behind his back by the patricians that no man could escape the "Scowl of Sulla."

"Ha!" he blurted out, shoving his finger at Vitus' face. His body shook as he hollered with laughter. "Oh my… your face! You looked as if you would shit out a sword!" He continued to cackle hard for several moments. A blush painted Vitus' cheeks. Sulla began to calm down. "Be at peace, Vitus. It was only a jesting nature. I do show some interest in why you have not come to visit me, but it does not bother me that much."

"It is as you said, I only came to visit my wife and bring her back to Arretium. Her father—"

"Has succumbed to the plague, I am aware. Many Romans have been stricken from this disease, many good Romans. How is Titus Valerius?"

"His wife claims that he is recovering and the worse is behind him."

"Such news lifts spirits, he is a good man and Rome shall be lessened if he passes prematurely. I must make plans to visit them and express reverence that death has not claimed him."

The young man of the Julii thought back at that word. _Death_. He thought back to the man who begged him to be saved from the blades of his murderers back in Arretium.

It seemed as if Sulla was in a good mood, perhaps… "Permission to speak my mind?"

"I would be disappointed if you didn't."

Vitus drank several gulps from his wine, hoping that they could give him courage. "Sulla… you have known me and seen my character… and you have known my father for a long time. So do not feel offended if I ask this, but I have been absent from the politics of the Republic for nearly a year. I must know the purpose behind these… proscriptions of yours. The day after I returned from war, I saw a man being attacked by a gang because he was proscribed. He died by my feet. And apparently, this has been occurring for nearly a year. I just… j-just… for what are you trying to accomplish here, Sulla?"

Sulla exhaled as he snapped his fingers for his slave to bring him another cup of wine. Sulla casually drank from his wine and locked eyes with the young man.

"Change, I am trying to accomplish change. You are too young to remember this, Vitus, but Rome used to be something… different. Something… indescribable, a-a-a… a purity. Something so beautiful that all men desired to hoard within the deepest recesses of their filthy souls. And so, every man fought for a piece of beauty, failing to see how in their pursuit, they muddied the… idea of what made Rome so beautiful. The Republic is corrupt, Vitus. You are of a noble family, yet you are no senator or hold ambitions of office; you're simply… a soldier of aristocratic blood. A noble and honorable calling, to take up sword against the enemies of the Republic. And as such you are not familiar with the horrid cycle of intrigue of Rome.

"The intrigue that plants seeds of paranoia, corruption, usury, and violence within every man of patrician blood. Seeds that have now grown into weeds that threaten to strangle the throat of the Republic until its holy breath… is lost. That breath is duty. And what happens when that breath of duty leaves forever? The entire body collapses. Then there is nothing left to hold anything together. Once duty is gone from the city of Rome, the entire Republic shall collapse. These weeds of intrigue cannot be fully pulled out from their roots, but they can be pruned. I am saving the Republic from itself. And do not dare label me a hypocrite, for I know that I am the seed that plants more weeds. But I do this to cease the growth of the vilest of weeds. Some of these weeds… many of them still hold on to the notions and will of Marius… how can true Romans sleep knowing that his subjects still walk the streets? I need to stamp out all dissension before more war erupts in the future. The citizens cry out for peace. But they only cry out for fleeting peace not _true_ peace."

"'True peace'?" Vitus asked. "How can peace be true?"

"What makes it true is that it lasts. For the past 30 years, the Republic has been plagued by various civil wars, each senator fighting for control of this city to reign over it and its people. To shove their own notions and agendas down the throats of the patricians, and to break the backs of the plebeians. Such senseless war has left the Republic battered and poor. The people are fatigued of death and war. The actions I do is to prevent such from happening again. A thousand dead men for a hundred thousand Romans to live contently with coin in their purse, fire in their hearth, food on their table, and family within their arms. Oh yes, because of these wars, the Treasury was nearly empty. Many of the proscribed had to be killed to replenish the coffers of the Republic. When I took office, the finances of Rome were damn near destitute!"

He stood to his feet and turned his back on Vitus, his head looking to the ceiling. "I have been Dictator for nearly a year, Vitus. I shall step down soon. I do not know exactly when, but I am done with this… absolute power. Truly I am. This is a position of the most taxing of efforts, Vitus, and I am so tired. But I can see the sun. I can. Rome is almost pure again, there is still more I can do. But as long as those who whisper the name Marius still thrive, they shall face the wrath of the Republic."

"Know such deaths do not weigh easy on my heart, Vitus. I hear the screams of hundreds throughout the city. The putrid slate of Republic corruption must be wiped clean. And if such a cleanser is blood…" he turned back to Vitus, "So be it."

 _You truly believe that… don't you, Sulla?_ Vitus' mouth tightened and he rose to his feet, walking to the Dictator. "And what shall you do when you step down? What happens to the Republic then?"

"It becomes as it once was, a true and noble system of moral senators like the Golden Age two centuries ago. Perhaps I run for office, or perhaps I retire to the countryside like good old Cincinnatus; the sun on my face, wine in my gullet, my cock in an actresses' cunt, and my legacy in every memory."

Vitus gave half a chuckle and half a scoff, it was subtle enough that he believed Sulla didn't catch it, "And thus ends the tale of Cornelius Sulla."

Sulla raised his cup of spiced wine up in a toasting manner, "Would it not be grand?"

"Sulla… I extend gratitude for indulging me in your motives. I do. And I offer no disrespect in any way, but… I must ask you, Sulla. For what purpose have you summoned me?"

Sulla looked to all the slaves in the room and told them with an iron glare, "Leave us." The slaves quickly scampered out of the room. Sulla stared at Vitus's slave, Evandrus. "He needs to leave too, Vitus." Vitus nodded to Evandrus to leave.

Sulla rubbed his mouth and looked to Vitus, "I had almost forgotten… Now that we are alone… Vitus, what I am about to disclose to you, you cannot repeat to another soul unless I have directed it. Do you understand?"

"I do."

He placed his goblet of wine down, and sat down in his seat. "Let me clarify, if I become privy to another who repeats what I have told you, I shall personally etch your name and that of the person you told onto my list."

A painful shiver crawled down the young man's spine. He nodded, "I-I-I understand, Sulla."

His eyes were still sharp as a lion's. He nodded softly, "Good. Tell me, Vitus. What do you know of the Arcani?"


	5. The Arcani

**Kanuro5** : Greetings, all. Was playing Total War and noticed the new upcoming game in the franchise, Three Kingdoms, which will be focused on ancient China. Don't know much about ancient China, I'm more familiar with Feudal Japan. But hey, maybe this new game will teach me about ancient China. Anywho, enjoy!

* * *

 **V**

 **The Arcani**

"You said, 'the Arcani'?"

"Yes, what do you know, Vitus?"

"Nothing, what is it?"

"Not 'it', 'they'. The Arcani were a group of Romans disciplined in the arts of deception and death. They are devout worshippers of the Gods, with Jupiter Optimus Maximus being their herald. They border on fanaticism. Everything done is in His name. They are effectively trained to take lives in the most clandestine of measures."

"'Clandestine measures'… you mean they are a league of assassins?"

"That they were, Vitus. And very skilled ones at that."

"You stated they ' _were_ ', does such mean they are disbanded."

"They were disbanded years ago, yet they have resurfaced." Sulla took a pause, contemplating something in his mind. "An old order that now resurfaced to strike fear into the heart of the Republic."

"An ancient order of assassins has returned?" Vitus wanted to vocally scoff. "How do you know this? That these men from the shadows have returned?"

"Because one of them tried to kill me three days ago."

Sulla was scowling again, Vitus knew he was telling the truth.

"They did?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"It was the dead of night when I awoke from slumber to relieve my bowels. My home is specially crafted to hold sanitation within certain chambers. So there I went to my secret chamber with two of my slaves in attendance. As I emptied myself, I heard the _pitter-patter_ of footsteps and quick yelps from my slaves as they were cut down. I saw the assassin from the shadows of the torch one of my slaves carried. He was dressed in all black and had a black facemask obscuring his identity. I yelled for aid and he brought his swords down on me. Yet I am a soldier and refuse to die like a craven. I wrestled with him and received light wounds, and would have perished if not for my slave who had survived the attacked, ran to alert the guardsmen. The Arcani killed two of my guards before they finally killed him."

"Sulla…"

"How the fuck did he even penetrate my home? My guards were lax, Vitus. If not for that brave slave, I would have been no more. I freed that slave the next day for his loyalty and devotion." Sulla grumbled off in incoherent muttering like a grouchy old man he was.

"I have no words for that," said Vitus.

"I don't expect you to hold any of note. I am informing you that this threat is all too real."

"What more do you know about this order of assassins?"

"They were formed by the Scipii."

"Truly?"

"Indeed. About 135 years ago, when Rome was in its Second War with Carthage and faced its darkest hour—such was when the Arcani had its origin. Hannibal Barca had just defeated the Roman forces at Cannae. Rome was in chaos, senators were shitting their white togas, men flocked to the temples of Jupiter for deliverance, mothers clutched their children to their breast and whispered in their ears that, 'Hannibal was at the Gates'. But only one man held on to hope, he rallied the Roman forces together, he was the light in the darkness, he was undefeated in battle, he was the greatest of the Scipii, the greatest of the Romans in his time, and he was the founder of the Arcani. He was Scipio Africanus."

The young man scrunched his face, " **The** Scipio Africanus…? He created them?"

"He did, their design was for that of the shadows against Carthage. To ambush any force on any terrain, to skulk in darkness and strike down enemy leaders, to sabotage settlements from within, commencing raids on supply lines, and to poison field camps by befouling their water and rations. For years he trained them, recruiting the best men from all the legions in the Scipii lands, even gladiators who were high of skill and merchants that bore linguistic tongues; they were all trained together in deception and death; all in the name of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Africanus even allowed them to aid Fabius Cunctator in his efforts of sabotage, burning the field of crops to deny the Carthaginians food. Though the Arcani were skilled in arms, he never placed them in a direct battle. But from behind the shadows of war, they were instrumental in Africanus' victory at Zama."

"If… If they showed such valor, then why is their name not common knowledge? How come no one speaks of them? I do not even recall their names in the scrolls of history."

Sulla chuckled lowly, " 'One cannot prepare for an enemy they do not see.' Such words fell from Scipio Africanus' tongue. He instructed no one to mention them, not even to his fellow Romans. Only those in his personal confidence truly knew what this mysterious force was. To keep the Arcani secret was to keep another blade ready on the body of the Republic. So the Scipii continued using them to put down any remaining Carthaginian insurgence. But it was not until the death of Africanus that the Scipii soon found… other ways to best utilize the Arcani."

"How?"

"I dare not point blame in the foulness of Man's heart, for my own sins are plenty. But there comes a time when a leader must end the life of one man for the good of the many. Be they foreign enemies or domestic. The Scipii noticed the effectiveness of the Arcani's subtle hands of death against the Carthaginians, and employed them in the more concrete roles of assassins. Numidians, Egyptians, Rebel Leaders, and eventually fellow Romans, many of them were struck down by the blades of the Arcani."

"Romans?" his face tightened at the thought.

"Yes. I do hope you remember your lessons in history? For this new tale involves the Gracchi."

Vitus was stunned. Of course he knew of the Gracchi brothers, arguably the two most renowned reformists in the Republic's history. The elder brother died fifty years ago whilst the younger died forty years ago around this date. But after nearly half a century, their lives and their deaths still sallied on in present memory. They argued vast reforms for the benefit of the plebeians and they had garnered major support from the people. The Senate feared that such support could start a revolution, so they murdered the eldest brother, Tiberius. But such murder did not deter the younger brother, Gaius, it only strengthen his resolve. He too preached about reforms for the people of Rome, but with even more vigor than his brother. And ten years later, the Senate had murdered him as well, along with all of Gaius' supporters.

Vitus stammered, "What…? The Arcani, they… they killed the Gracchi brothers?"

"Publius Scipio Nasica, at the time, the Patriarch of the Scipii. He was a most hated enemy of Tiberius Gracchus, the eldest. At the time, he was the Pontifex Maximus and believed Tiberius wanted to become king. So Scipio Nasica along with another Scipio, Scipio Aemilianus—the Sacker of Carthage in the Third War—organized a force of several hundreds of men with members of the Arcani leading the charge, disguised by wearing senatorial togas and beat Tiberius to death and slaughtered hundreds of his supporters.

"After Tiberius was killed, members of the Senate had seen the use of such clandestine killers, so they "acquired" them from the Scipii. And since then, the Arcani had been the new Fist of the Senate. Scipio Nasicia and Aemilianus were both ostracized by the Roman people; Nasica was exiled a year later and died, while Aemilianus was murdered years later. And yet the Arcani remained a secret.

"When his time came, Gaius—the younger brother—would come forth to speak, and in his actions, a riot sparked which sent Gaius fleeing across the Tiber River. Once again the Senate used the mob to their advantage and amongst the furious crowd; members of the Arcani secreted themselves. As the younger Gracchus escaped the Tiber, the Arcani were already there and killed him and his slave. And as the frenzied mob killed Gracchus' supporters, those who were pro-Gracchi that had fled were tracked down by the Arcani and were silenced forever."

"Shit…" Vitus poured himself another cup of wine and drank it before continuing. "Wait… if they are so secret, if their names are lost to history, then how do _you_ know all of this? Weren't you a child young when both of the Gracchi were killed?"

Sulla sighed. "Scipio Africanus was privy to secrecy, his descendants were not. As the richest of the Three Families, they sought political office and as they climbed the _cursus honorum._ As they sold the Arcani to the Senate, so too did they sell their secrets. Only those of the _cursus honorum_ that held the title of Proconsul, Consul, and Pontifex Maximus were privy to the existence of the Arcani and their history.

"Such secrecy was paramount in the office. How would it look if it was known that the Senate had professional killers immediately on call like a man could whistle up a dog? If the Senate could not sway the people of Rome to kill their enemies or if the enemy had to be killed posthaste; then the Arcani were sent to do the duty. Any untimely death of a political rival among the senators would reflect vilely upon them, as if it was foul play. When I was first elected Consul about six or seven years ago, I became privy to these men and their history."

"They were the perfect killers, then?"

"No, they were not perfect. They are men, and as men they are fallible. I believe Scipio Africanus also designed them to be the perfect assassins, to murder Hannibal and his family, yet Hannibal stilled lived on into the end of the war. They missed him somehow. They kill most of their targets, but some escape them. They are not the perfect assassins, but they are the most versatile ones. Their quality has decayed across the years. They sent only one man to kill me." His face grimaced as he dwelled on the thought. " **One** man! As if I was some drunk and feeble cripple!"

"You would have desired that they sent more men out to kill you?"

"Such is not the point, Vitus. They sent a single man to kill the Dictator of the Republic, they should have sent more or their best, which they clearly didn't."

"So what happened to them? For what purpose were they disbanded?"

Sulla bent his head. Out the corner of his eye, he looked to the young man. "Such reasons are to be kept between those of Consular rank and above. I shall not disclose it."

 _You tell me national secrets and threaten my life if I speak of it, yet you won't tell me everything…?_ Vitus grunted lowly and shook his head. "Fine, such is your right, Sulla."

Sulla seemed pleased with that answer. "Gratitude for your understanding. I cannot tell you about their disbandment, but there is… there's more I need to explain."

"What more can there possibly be?"

Sulla sighed, staring cantankerously at the young man, "Three days ago, the same night as they sent a man to kill me, half of the treasury of Rome was stolen."

"What?! How? Wh-Wh— Impossible."

"I wish it was. But it happened, the guards posted were murdered and the thieves made out with the gold." He scoffed bitterly, "They sent several Arcani into Rome, one man to kill me but the rest to steal the treasury. I guess it's pretty obvious which one they believed had more priority. I have sent out men to scour across Italia to find that gold. Such news cannot be made public, for what is the Republic without its wealth? The position of the Senate becomes even more untenable without the gold to support our weight. And another sign that the people will take from me of my own undoing, claiming the Gods had rejected their favor from me."

"And you know it was the Arcani who were responsible for the theft?"

"It was the same night they tried to kill me, it cannot be mere coincidence."

"What would you have me do about this? You have men tracking down the gold. But for what purpose am I here? Why are you telling me about the Arcani, Sulla?"

Sulla put his cup down, his eyes were cold as he studied the young man's face. He made a grunting noise and motioned with his head. "Come with me."

Back again through the party he led him. This time, Sulla wore no mask of jubilation. Sulla brought Vitus out to the back courtyard which was clear of all revelers—per Sulla's strict instructions. There was a blanket draping over a large bulging object on top of an altar. From the way the blanket covered the object, the bulge looked to be in the shape of a person.

The slave removed the blanket from the bulge. Vitus recoiled slightly back from the sight. Upon an altar was a partly decayed corpse of a man. The body was flat on his stomach with the skin having lost its elasticity and now seemed more flat, like his bones and organs had begun to decompose from within. He had an exit wound from his back and dried residue of blood was caked all over the wound. It must have been a fierce stab that had killed this man. He had a moderate smell of rankness to him, but Vitus noted the sprinkling of powder over the body to preserve it from decomposition.

"Sulla, what is **this** about?"

"This was the man who tried to assassinate me. I've kept this body preserved for you, Vitus."

"For me? For what purpose?"

"Look what mark he bears upon his shoulder…"

Vitus loomed over the cadaver and examined a black marking on the back of his left shoulder. It was a tattoo that read, " _XXVIII_ "

"What, it can't—"

"The mark of the Twenty-Eighth Legion, **your** legion." Sulla said with a stare. "That man killed my slave and tried to kill me. Upon seeing that mark, I grew hopeful that you might have known who this man was." He looked to his slaves, "Turn him over."

The slaves bowed and they both flipped the body onto its back.

"Do you recognize his face?"

Vitus' eyes widened, "I do. This is Hilarus Murio. A centurion of the 3rd Century, 1st Cohort…"

"Hmm, 'Hilarus Murio', a plebian name of Etruscan origins. What measure would you give of the man when he was yet of this world?"

"A soldier of light and dark. He was brave, fierce in battle, determined to do his duty, every now and then he may have indulged in raucous behavior but that's an expectation of a soldier to be rowdy. But he was reckless as well, often charging alone for glory or leading his men to fight individually instead of in unison. Sometimes he grew careless in his own ability and that of his men and that would lead to casualties. I had to flog him every now and then for his behavior. But still, he was a man who was an inspiration to those underneath him. He served under my father and fought with us at Samarobriva. He retired two years ago, right before the Civil War began. I was conflicted, but I believed his light outweighed his darkness, and it never hurts to have a soldier who holds a violent streak in your employ. So I offered him position on the Evocati, but he refused, saying how he desired to return home to his father and mother in Massilia."

"Huh…" That was all he said. Vitus could see the machinations of his mind working in overtime, trying to piece together everything he had heard about this man. For half a minute, Sulla was silent; until Vitus called out his name.

"Your destination."

"What? Huh?"

"Massilia. You are to travel to Massilia and question the family of this Murio. Investigate all you can about Murio and discover any information you can about the Arcani threat. If this man was too sloppy to kill me, maybe he left a trail of their whereabouts. Report back to me promptly on any discovery."

" _I_ am to go?"

"You are. I am making that an order. He's your centurion and living in a city belonging to the Julii. And yet he wore the black mask of the Arcani and tried to murder me in the night."

 _Murio… He was in league with assassins?_

Sulla gave a look to a slave. "Give him the mask."

The slave bowed and retrieved a solid facemask from a trunk nearby and handed it over to Vitus. It was solid black and rather firm, it felt like clay but he was sure it actually wasn't. There were no lips on the mask and the holes for where the eyes were had been carved large enough to see out from. On the sides of the mask was a black leather strap that could be adjusted to fit the size of the wearer's head.

"Murio wore this mask?" Vitus asked.

"He did, and died in that. Memorize this mask, anyone who wields this or holds one in their possession is among the Arcani. I remember the last time they were a unit, all of them wore a mask such as this. Since he's been dead for a while, the Arcani may assume that he has perished in his failed attempt instead of fleeing. Time is crucial. I was already prepared to send out a courier to Arretium upon your arrival, but was relieved to hear that you entered Rome on your own volition."

"How _did_ you hear about my entry?"

"I have many eyes in every gateway of this city, they see all and more. And it makes surveillance easy if I tell my men to be on the look for a young man with red hair who has one eye blue and one eye green."

"I see…" Vitus pursed his lips, a few days in Italia and he was already sent on another mission. "I understand, Sulla. I do not seek to question, but you make it seem that since he was from Julii territory this is the problem for the Julii. What of the Brutii and Scipii?"

"They tried to kill me, they stole the State Treasury; this is a problem for the entire Republic! The Brutii and most of their men are still fighting Mithridates in the East. The Scipii have taken their considerable forces down in Africa and are still fighting Ptolemy and his Egyptians. You Julii have are the faction with the most men near Italia and you just ended a campaign against Germanic incursions. Your legions are closer to Massilia than the Senate's, which are still retraining from years of war. The Julii are my first response."

"But still… for what reason do you not send your men you trust? What of good Lucullus?"

Sulla smirked, "I would send Lucullus, but he and my man, Murena, are still in the East keeping Mithridates at bay. I already sent word to Lucullus to keep an eye out for the Arcani, maybe they seek to give the treasury to Mithridates, but I am not certain. All the men I trust wholeheartedly are out of Italia."

"You trust me, wholeheartedly?"

"You have proven your candor in my war. But I do need you, your father was a good man, I trusted him and I believe I can trust his son."

 _On the merit of my father, you lay your trust in me? I can—_

Sulla continued. "Those five heads you saw, on your way here in front of my home?"

"Uh, yes? What about them?"

"They were from my villa's guard. Upon the night of the break-in, two of them admitted to have fallen asleep at their post, one of them was drunk, and two of them failed to spot the intruder and thus they were incompetent. I shall **not** have my home and the secrets of Rome be protected by fools. I had them put to death in front of my guards to realize the price of incompetence."

 _A reminder… or a threat…_ Vitus thought. With Sulla, it could have been either or both. Just to make clear that failure cannot—no, failure will not be tolerated.

Sulla continued, "Also, I understand that your young wife has been getting in trouble with the local girls on the Palatine. Powerful fathers they have, I shall post my guards to protect her family in case of any unforeseen complications that are to arise."

"You are truly gracious, Sulla," Vitus replied with a polite smile. Yet he was thinking, _Truly, Sulla? You must threaten me with my wife's family? You believe that I shall fail or won't take this seriously? Didn't my father-in-law fight for you in your wars? Or is this just simple assurance…? But if I try to investigate a league of assassins, is Titia safe here?_ "Safety is paramount, that is true. Yet, I do make a request, may my wife be allowed to return with me to Arretium? I have been too long from her and…" his cheeks blushed, he couldn't believe he was going to say this, "As she hugged me, my cock stood straighter than a spear when her flesh touched mine."

Sulla unleased a lecherous cackle. "A soaked cunt of a lover does that to a man." He continued cackling, "And you often bore the mask of piousness, I knew such lust-filled masculinity was inside you, no man can hide that for long!" He raised his cup to Vitus, "I hope you pleasure her good, with the fury of a beast."

Vitus forced a chuckle, "Why settle for any beast? I'm going in like the Cretan Bull."

Sulla's cackle erupted into a guffaw. "That's the spirit, Vitus! In fact, take your wife with you, I allow it! Fuck her good and hard like the bull you claim to be!" He continued to laugh for several moments until he finally got his breath back. "Her family should still be protected by my men from any assailants that seek to harm them. So go, young Germanicus, go to Massilia, investigate Murio's family, and see if you can discover such mystery behind the Arcani and the missing treasury. For the good of the Republic you must go. And remember, not a word to anyone about the Arcani."

* * *

What a wondrous perfume she had. He bit down on her neck and bucked harder, she gasped and clutched him tighter. He was thrusting hard, how he missed the warmth of her insides. All those cold nights in those damned Germanic woods that haunted a man in his dreams, all those days where he thought it may be his last, and all those times he witnessed his men relieving their urges with the intoxicating camp followers. He thrusted harder and nibbled on her ear until he exhaled as he spent himself inside her. How long had it been since he had last laid with her? Ten months? It must have been. He fell on top of her and felt her arms wrap around his back, they lay there for about a minute, gasping, until he fell over to his side of the bed.

She exhaled and brushed her hair. "Do you desire water?"

He gasped. "Please."

Titia snapped her fingers and her body slave—who had been watching over the lovemaking in silence, fetched a jug of water and poured it into a cup. Titia gave the cup to Vitus who downed it.

"Air?" she asked.

Vitus nodded.

She snapped once more and a slave with a fan began cooling them both down.

"You okay?"

He answered with an exhale, "Better now."

He asked for more water. He couldn't believe how hard he was sweating, he never believed that sex was more physically demanding than calisthenics.

"It lifts my heart to see that you are still as eager as you were on our wedding night," she smiled as she exhaled.

"Huh? Wh-What do you mean by that?"

"You are still eager to please me, not ensuring your own pleasure takes priority."

"Oh." He breathed easier. "I thought you meant…"

"Meant what?"

He blushed softly, a little relieved that it was too dark to notice his reddened cheeks. "That I was too quick…"

He could see her brow furrowing, "Were you? It felt long enough, I guess." She shrugged, "Honestly, I hold no reference to how long a man should last… Hmm, how long did you last with me compared to other women?"

"What?"

"How did you last with other women compared to me?"

"Uh… I have never been with another woman."

She chuckled and asked for some water. After she drank it, she realized he wasn't laughing.

Her eyes enlarged, "You have never been with a woman before me?"

"Uh… that surprises you?"

"Honestly… yes. Someone like you, gifted in war, a fierce legion at your beck and call, and the name of Julius and son of Julius Magnus. I believed you should have been fucking like mad before our marriage." He chuckled and thought, _If only you knew my brother a few years ago…_ She continued, "I believed many a lonely wives of old senators would have flung themselves on you, or maybe you would visit some camp followers during your campaigns, or maybe you sampled the fruit of what I've been hearing of 'Barbarian Beauties', as if to secure an alliance between a tribe and Rome."

"I have never done that. Or planned to. A general has to be the sum of all his actions, anything he does speaks to and about the man. My soldiers and tribunes could do that, but not I."

Titia sniggered, her finger twiddling around his wavy auburn hair. "Ohhhhhh, so your cock is too **good** for old women, whores, and barbarian bitches, huh? Or maybe… you were too filled with nerves to ask a woman—any woman—to take your manhood?"

"Well… I mean it's not like I approach girls and command them to bed me, such cannot—well, it's never that simple to—"

Her laughter filled the night, "And I was right?!" she yelped in surprise. "Germanicus, son of Lucius Magnus, afraid of women!"

"Apologies if I know nothing of women…"

"Oh you beat yourself up too much. Ooh Vitus, did boys your age tell you that we girls have teeth in our genitals to bite off your manhood?" She continued to snigger.

"You probably spread such crude tales yourself in your youth."

"Do I wear the face of the kind of girl to do that?"

"I cannot tell, it's too dark to see your face."

"Well it's most innocent and convincing."

"Hmm, yes, well, keep telling yourself that."

She giggled softly and gently kicked his leg, then entwined her leg with his'.

Her smile began to fade, "So Sulla desires you to go to Massilia? You never told me for what purpose?"

"I already told you."

"I just desire the truth."

"It is between Sulla and I."

"And I cannot come?"

"No, at first light, I'm taking you back to Arretium. Your father is recovering and I don't want you to remain in this pestilent city."

She yawned and stretched her arms. "As you desire, Vitus."

 _If only I could tell you the reason why, but if Sulla has eyes and ears everywhere…_

"And my parents are to stay as hostages to Sulla if you dare fail?"

His lips tightened.

"I am no fool, Vitus. Whatever, Sulla has you doing shall be fraught with peril apparently, a danger to the Republic. Why else would he station his soldiers in front of our home for 'protection', huh? He has never done that before since he took power. If you fail, then my parents shall be imprisoned, exiled, or killed."

"How do—"

"Simple. I was raised in Rome amongst the elite, I know how they operate."

"Such is why I cannot bring you to Massilia. Please, understand."

She sighed and pouted through the dark, Vitus could see a smile. "I do. It just bothers me how, as soon as you return from danger, you are leaving once more."

"Wait, I thought you said earlier when we reunited that you were not worried for me?"

She shook her head and jabbed him sharply in the ribs. He yelped, "What was that for?!"

"So you did speak truth, you know nothing of women."

She asked her slave for another cup of water. She drank it quickly and exhaled, "How did Sulla seem to you, Vitus? Was he as paranoid as others say? A beast of simplicity rank with the stench of wine and whores in his home?"

"He's… the same as I remember. He's alert, ruthless, and genuine…"

"Please explain."

"There is an air of paranoia that surrounds him, but it is justified, he told me the reason… yet I cannot tell you. But these proscriptions of his, he admits he does it to destroy his enemies and to refill the coffers of the Republic Treasury, but… it seems that he actually believes that he is doing this for the greater good of the Republic."

"I do believe _he_ believes such a thing."

"As do I."

"My family aided him at great cost and my father a good subject to him, and he repays this with threats of punishment based on the possible failure of a son-in-law?"

"I shall not fail."

"I know you won't. You triumphed the Suebi and gave me a cherished gift. You shall not fail, or else I'll beat the failure out of you when you return." She ceased talking for half a minute before continuing. "Not only does he keep my father here, but my mother as well…"

"He would have you kept here too. But I persuaded him to bring you back with me."

"How? How _did_ you persuade Sulla? No one but his close friends can do that."

He was blushing again, "Uh, I said…"

"What? What did you say?"

He turned away, "I said that I would, um… I had not seen you for a year and I desired your flesh, so I told… I told him I would fuck you like the Cretan Bull, and he laughed and he agreed for you to come with me…"

" **You** said that?"

"I did…"

"You told the Butcher of Rome, that?"

She broke out into hardy laughter, it reminded him of Sulla.

"The Cretan Bull, that's hilarious! Oh Gods! The same bull from the story of King Minos and Daedalus? You are a hilarious, Vitus!"

He turned and faced her, a smile softly curling on his face, "Indeed, even I was able to trick the Dictator of the Republic. Hmm… Titia, a question, _did_ I fuck you like a bull…?"

She placed a soft hand on his face. It was too dark but he could swear her smile was something playful. "More like a three-legged calf than a bull."

His heart sank. "Oh that's cruel…"

She giggled and gave him a peck on his cheek, "Maybe one day you'll grow into a bull. But tell me…" The tone in her voice was bouncy like a song, "So tell me, Vitus, did I fuck you like a lust-cursed whorish queen?"

That question put his heart at ease, "I don't know, I would say more like a paralyzed temple priestess but maybe you will grow into a beautiful, pious queen."

She laughed, "Ohhhhhh, there's that barbed tongue of the Julii. We both shall get better at copulation."

"Eventually…"

"Eventually," she pressed her soft hand on his member, "I'll take care of that in the morning, but for now…"

"Sleep, and the pursuit of dreams; I agree with you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in. To finally sleep with another warm body in a bed after so long. "Goodnight, Titia."

"Goodnight, Vitus."

* * *

 **The most difficult part of this chap and the previous chap for me was nailing Sulla's character. Looking through history, Sulla was an enigma, he was violent and ruthless but seemed to believe that what he was doing was truly for the good of Rome; and his actions would pave the way for Caesar and the fall of the Republic. Plutarch labeled him as a man who was ruthless, intelligent, and yet a hedonist, even in his old ages. Hope I got those aspects of those traits down.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **-Kanuro5**


	6. Questions

**VI**

 **Questions**

It always amazed him how much quicker he traveled with six people on horseback versus marching in with a legion of over 4,000. It took him approximately ten days to march the legion from Massilia to Arretium; while it only took Vitus five days to travel from Arretium to Massilia. Vitus looked behind him, Evandrus was riding tall on his horse and close to Vitus, giving his master a polite smile as he looked upon him. Lucky for him, Evandrus knew how to ride and he did it well. Behind his slave, his Thracian bodyguards were spread out consisting of their captain, Ligadis, the brothers Pytros and Kersos, the tall and quiet Terxun, and the young and rowdy Diza. The seven of them made great time from the Julii capital, yet he wished Sulla never sent him on this errand in the first place, oh what he would rather do than be with his new wife and legion.

He spent a day within Arretium after he brought Titia back from Rome. She was of course bombarded with questions on how her father was doing and how Rome was dealing with the plague. Everyone made her feel welcomed, especially his sister-in-law, Appia. Spending nearly a year in Arretium had made Titia and Appia closer than blood sisters, Appia had that effect on people. Yet Titia was not the only one lambasted with questions.

Vitus' uncle, cousin, and brother all questioned him about the affairs of Rome and he answered them the best he could. He told them that he had to leave on a special mission, and he admitted that it came from Sulla. And of course, even more questions followed; regarding his proscriptions, his sanity, the mission Vitus would have to undergo. Vitus ensured them that Sulla was not insane, that every word he spoke with was chosen with care. Proculus and Statius wanted to ply more information out of him about his mission, but Vitus told them he could say no more except that he had to go to Massilia. He remembered the stern face of silence Uncle Decius gave him, and how he brusquely pulled him aside to speak to him alone.

"That man is up to something, I know it. You went to Rome only to retrieve your wife and you come back with a mission straight from his lips? Be careful. I shall not ask what Sulla is ordering you to do, Vitus. If he desires your silence, then silent you shall be. He has spies everywhere. But I ask that you do not trust him and that you remember who you are as a Julii."

"Uh, of course, Uncle."

"I mean it. Sulla has the gift of twisting words and actions of others for his own benefit. Whatever he has you doing, do so with honor and remember whether such actions would aid the Julii or hinder us."

"I understand, Uncle."

Unlike his trip to Rome, Vitus decided it best to wear his Legatorial Armor and his crimson cape. His sword and his eagle-pommeled dagger were publicly fastened to his waist; yet he left his helm back in Arretium. He wasn't worried that he would encounter any danger in Massilia; the riot should have been suppressed by now thanks to Oppius. He had concocted a good story to tell Murio's family once he met them and his appearance as a general would only solidify it.

Ligadis galloped his horse closer to Vitus, "I can see the Massilian Bay from the road, a quaint and busy port filled with all sorts of leisure."

Vitus rolled his eyes playfully, "I have told you, we are not travelling to Massilia for leisure. Only business."

The captain groaned, "I ought believed I could change your mind. I never considered Hilarus Murio as one for business. I mean no disrespect, but why must you visit him yourself? If you wish to induct him into the Evocati, then why not send a courier?"

"He'll know I'm serious and perhaps feel a patriotic call if I'm looking…" Vitus smirked, pointing to his armor and cape. "…Soldierly."

His bodyguard shot an eyebrow up and extended his hand to the other bodyguards bringing up the back, "Is such why all of us are armored as well, to look 'soldierly'?"

"Back in the Samarobriva campaign, I recall he wasn't overly favorable of you Thracians."

"I can only count on one hand of those who were."

"Years have passed, you in armor may change his opinion on the matter."

"Things change and things remain."

Vitus grunted in acknowledgement. He looked back to his other four bodyguards. "Ligadis, how do the rest feel about this?"

"Well… they all wonder why not send a courier, but on the upswing they view it good that we are visiting the beautiful Massilia. Upon our last visit before we fought the Germanians, Diza is vying to see a fair Iberian he coupled with before. Kersos desires to sample on cheap, but good shellfish. Terxun doesn't really hold a care for this or the other, and Pytros desires to smell the sweet salty air of the bay."

"And what do you desire, Ligadis, from coming with me?"

"Oh I just tagged along to look soldierly."

That a got good laugh from Vitus.

The stone walls of Massilia had crimson banners of the Julii draping down the tall walls proudly. The paved highways entered neatly into the gateway, which seemed to have a decent size of traffic venturing into and out of the city. All occupants were wearing the plain faces of normality. Vitus wondered if the riot had been quelled more efficiently than he suspected.

He and his men requested entry inside, to which the guardsman politely told him. "Enjoy your visit to Massilia."

"I shall. Tell me, what was the extent of the damage to Massilia?"

The guard scrunched his face. "What do you mean? What damage?"

"The damage from the rioting."

Both of the guards looked at one another, then back to him. "Apologies, but we do not know what you speak of. There has been no riot within the city."

"No, I was told that a week or two ago there was a significant riot within the dockyards. It interfered with commerce. The riot was huge, wasn't it?"

The other guard spoke, "We can assure you that no such rioting occurred. The only thing that got the city in any sort of uproar was how the citizens joyously welcomed back Oppius' legions from beating the Suebi. But no rioting had occurred when his army left, nor when they returned."

The Legatus thanked the guardsmen as he moved away, troubled by their words and his own recollection. Vitus and his retinue dismounted and tied up their horses at the stables, before they ventured underneath the gatehouse.

In the center of the spacious square was a tall statue of the Conqueror of Massilia, Numerius Julius Gemellus. Gemellus was the twin to one of the Julii Patriarchs a century ago and took Massilia from the Gauls. The Gauls held Massilia since the beginning of time and they always stopped the Roman advance by launching ambushes from the woods. But Gemellus, using Julii ingenuity, launched a seaborne invasion from Sardinia and took Massilia with two days. Since then, the Julii have come to recognize the importance of the bay for its western territories.

Vitus recalled how his legion entered Massilia a year ago to begin the kickoff to repel the Suebi Invasion. He noticed the fascination in the face of his men as they ventured through the beautiful port city, breathing in the sweet yet salty air of the sea that enveloped the entire town, how the seagulls were plentiful above and squawked melodiously as they circled endlessly in the sky. Indeed Massilia was a beautiful settlement to visit if one had the luxury, yet Vitus noted the look of contentment on the faces of the citizens. The stench of squalor was much lower than it was in Rome. Men and women were playing with children in the streets. The guards' words must have been true, no rioting had occurred. Questions burned in his mind, but he recalled what his main task was for even being in this city.

The young legate caught two Town Watchmen patrolling close by. They noticed his attire of a Legatus and they stood to attention. Vitus asked them politely, "Pardon me, but I am seeking the abode of the Murii? Would you know a family of that name? Or their son, Hilarus Murio"

One of the watchmen rubbed his chin in thought and kept muttering the name. "I do know that name…" He turned to his partner, "Wasn't that name in the report?"

"It was, oh, I recall now! Apologies, but you may pay your respects to their home, Legatus. It's down the dockyard, several blocks past the barracks in the southern sector of the city. The sector is called Gemellus' Gift."

"What do you mean by such words? In 'paying respects', what is this?"

They looked at one another before turning to him, "Oh, you didn't know, Legatus?"

"Know what?"

"We assumed you came to observe their passing, both of the Murii are dead."

"What? They're—how?"

"From what I hear, they both passed in their sleep."

"They both died? Within the same night?"

"Yes. I know, quite strange but such were the results of investigations."

"When did they die?"

"Last night."

 _It took me five days to travel from Arretium to Massilia. And I met Sulla seven days ago. The Arcani murdered Murio's parents a week after I met with Sulla? Did they know I was coming or did they already send killers to end their lives once Murio failed? All these questions…_

He gave a courteous nod, "Thank you for your directions." And he took his men and slave down to the docks; at the same time, his mind was trying to decipher what was going on.

The dockyards stretched out from the coast into the sapphire blue waters of the Massilian Bay. Multitudes of boardwalks stood proudly in the water with many galleys anchored beside them. Flocks of gulls circled lazily over the Bay, whose water shimmered in the most tranquil of blues. Citizens roamed peacefully around the docks and streets, with merchants shouting their wares in the distance. And not one speck of damage was seen anywhere in the Bay. Nothing was being reconstructed, no crucified bodies were hung up around the port for dissident rebels, and nothing was out of place. If no riot occurred, why did the courier tell them elsewise…?

He continued to ask directions for the Murii and Gemellus' Gift until he found their home. A small crowd of about fifteen people that looked to be neighbors stood outside the home, trying to peer inside for any news, yet they were kept at bay by the four men of the Town Watch that stood guard. The crowd wore no expressions of anger or confusions, but held concern and worry in its stead. Some were mumbling prayers to Juno and Jupiter to watch over them in the afterlife.

Vitus excused himself through the crowd as he gently forced his way to the entrance. One of the watchmen placed a hand on his shoulder firmly, "Soldier, you cannot enter these premises."

"Unhand the Legatus!" Ligadis barked. "You address Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus, and you shall offer respect upon his name."

The crowd behind them began mumbling, the militiaman stammered with the clearing of his throat. "Julius Germanicus? But—I—I…"

Vitus cleared his throat, "I understand it is your job to keep out the crowd, but take note of this." He showed him the Token of the Julii upon his armor. "I am Julius Germanicus, if I chose to, I could be the Governor of this settlement. Now allow me entry."

"Of course! Uh, you may enter, Legatus…"

The four men stood aside and stood straighter in his presence. Vitus often didn't like when he had to pull rank or name-drop, but he did it when he had to and it did get results. But before he entered, he looked to the guard who touched them. "Watchman, tell me, who found them dead?"

"One of the neighbors, Legatus. She claimed that she was to go out with the deceased wife on the following market day. She called into the home but no response, yet she knew they did not leave. She entered the premises and found them both dead in their bed."

"Was anything taken?"

"Not that we could fine. Everything seemed normal around here. It couldn't have been theft or murder."

"How are you certain? You examined the bodies? And they suffered no wounds, there was no blood?"

"None, no marks were found on their bodies either. We could not find anything of worth that was stolen from the premises, their coin was still stashed away inside. We believe this was no theft or murder."

"And both of them died in the same night?"

"We know, it is puzzling, but we cannot figure out the cause besides… well… natural causes. The couple was old. Perhaps the gods saw fit to take them both, knowing such pain of solitary for the surviving spouse should be too much. Perhaps it was a part of a plan."

 _Indeed, to tie-up all loose ends…_

"I shall go inside. Ligadis, keep your men on the watch for anything suspicious. Watchman, where is the woman who found the Murii?"

"Oh, she and her husband are inside this home."

"They are? For what purpose?"

"To set up their funeral arrangements. This couple was close to the Murii and the Murii have no kin, to my knowledge. They are preparing the bodies for viewing, Legatus."

"I see, I would speak with them. As you were, Watchmen."

The interior seemed like the standard home for any working-class Roman couple, nothing struck out to him as odd. A few amounts of basic furniture; plain curtains, a dusty rug, a table with several holes and splinters jutting out. Yet this was a simply cozy home where one could decently raise a family. There stood a man and a woman looking to be husband and wife, both gray in years, tending to two bodies resting on separate couches; cleaning and anointing the faces of the deceased.

"Apologies if I intrude," Vitus said to them in a soft and polite tone.

The old couple turned around. The man replied, his mouth was tight together and he wore a sullen face. "What are you doing here, young man?"

He smiled politely, "Greetings, I am Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion."

The grizzled husband looked at the armor and peered into the young man's eyes and there saw the truth of it.

"Legatus, oh! You honor us with your presence."

The wife bowed her head, "Indeed you do. But for what reason are you here?"

Vitus cleared his throat. "Hilarus Murio. I knew him when he was once under my command."

"Apologies, but 'you **knew** ' him?"

"Oh I-I-I meant… uh that I know him from when he served, I used the wrong word, forgive me."

"For what reason do you arrive at the home of the Murii?" the wife continued inquisitively.

"The campaign with the Suebi is over. In peacetime, I often seek to revisit many of my veterans to see how they fare with life as a civilian."

The wife gushed, "You are very sweet to check up on your men."

Her husband turned to her with anger in the eyes, "Watch what you say, woman! He is not a damn child. Apologies for my wife, Germanicus. She forgets herself, she did not mean it in such a way."

He smirked softly, "No apologies are necessary, no harm is done."

Behind the couple, Vitus eyed the corpses lying on the couch. He inhaled through his nose and walked closer. The deceased couple looked so peaceful, as if they indeed fell into a restful sleep and never awoke. He tried to be subtle, he moved his eyes all over their exposed flesh from the neck on up, but saw no wounds or bruises on the skin. So they weren't strangled or stabbed, but was poison the killer?

"You knew them well?" Vitus asked.

"That we did. Close to thirty years, actually. We were their neighbors, but we met each other in our youth." said the husband. "I am Vibius Cordus, and this is my wife, Penelope."

Vitus addressed the woman, "So it was you who found them… uh, deceased?"

She bowed her head, her eyes quivered for a moment, "Yes, I did. Every morning, upon the conclusion of morning meal, Aula and I would venture into the market place together. Every morning, but she did not come out at her usual time, I figured she was busy getting ready but upon fifteen minutes passing, I called up and received no response. I ventured in and…"

"It was mighty unfortunate, their passing," Vibius said, placing a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder. "They were good people, many citizens knew them and their virtuous spirit. I must ask, Germanicus, you said you were here for Hilarus?"

"I was. You see, upon his discharge, I offered position of Evocatus yet he turned it down. In it he claimed he would return back to Massilia to be with his parents. I admit such was two years ago but I still remember Murio well." _Yes, he was rotting on an altar after nearly assassinating Sulla. I wonder how they would react if they knew the truth of the son of their neighbors…_ "I seek to offer the position again to him. In case the years have not been kind to him, then he can seek employment on my staff. Is he presently here in the city?"

"No, I am afraid he is not. After he left the Legion, I recalled that he came back to his parents and stayed with them for a year and took service at the Temple of Jupiter."

"Truly? _He_ joined a collegium of Flamines?"

"No, he did not," Penelope said. "Although he found the ways of faith later in the year. No, he was a temple cleaner, maintaining the visible integrity of the temple and its statues. It was a tough two months for him when he came back, no proper work for a soldier in a town known for merchants and artisans. He took jobs here and there, nothing sticking longer than a fortnight. He… uh, took to drink, he claimed to ease him of his memories and his state as a jobless man."

Vitus sucked on his bottom lip. _Indeed, there are some things no man should see in battle…_ "How do you know all of this?"

"I frequented with his mother, Aula, daily. She was… a cherished friend, she spoke of her son often. She then told me that one day, he retuned expressing the amazement he witnessed when the priests offered lambs upon the Ides and heard their prayer to Jupiter. He was fascinated with them. Days later, he came back to his parents with news of his employment as a temple cleaner. He stayed at the Temple for long periods of time, even after the closing of hours within the Forum. He would clean the temple and the priests would teach him about the grace of Jupiter. He was happy."

The husband took over, "Then, as a year passed, he announced that he was leaving Massilia 'to make his fortune,' if you can believe such. He claimed he would venture to Rome."

"Rome, huh?" Vitus said.

"Indeed." Said the husband, his eyes were weary as he recollected what had happened. "His father and mother offered to throw a party to see him off, but he refused and left a few days later. As he left his parents, and he extended his goodbyes to us as well."

 _That doesn't tell me much, was that gap of time when he joined the Arcani?_ "He stayed in Rome for the entire time?"

"As much as we know, yes."

Vitus looked to Murio's parents. "I extend apologies if my comments offend, but… his parents… how did they die?"

"In their sleep. From what the Town Watch described, they were both sleeping in their beds, eyes were closed as if they were in an eternally peaceful slumber."

"Did you hear anything that occurred the night of their death? Anything at all?"

Penelope looked frightened, "No, we did not. It was a normal night, just quiet in their home. Why? Do you suspect something foul, like murder?"

"No I do not, it's just… strange how both of them died in their sleep the same night."

The husband exhaled, "We did as well. But the Watch assured us that nothing sinister occurred. Nothing was taken from their home, the rest of our neighbors saw no one enter, and look they have no signs of wounds on them. They both… died at peace."

Penelope said softly, "I feel horrible for whenever their son shall return. To find both his beloved parents deceased…"

"I agree," Vitus said, "I truly did not expect this. I extend the utmost gratitude unto you two for speaking with me today. I do hope that Opiter and Aula Murio find peace within the afterlife." He dug in coin pouch and gave them twenty denarii. "Here, as my condolences, use this for their funeral arrangement."

"Such kind words and actions, we thank you, Julius Germanicus."

"Before I leave, can you point me in direction of the temple that Hilarus worked at?"

"Indeed we can, just follow these directions…"

* * *

The Massilian Temple of Jupiter stood tall and proud in the midst of the square, its white marble reflected the noon sun radiantly, bright as a beacon. A statue of Jupiter was erected in front of the temple, him resting marvelously on a throne, showing his dominion and authority over all. Unlike the square near the gates where children played with one another; none played in front of the temple, volume in this area was kept to a respectable minimum, no gambling was done, everything here was held in reverence. Vitus motioned for his slave and his bodyguards to wait in the square, it was only necessary for him to speak with the Flamens.

The Flamens were a revered collegium of priests within Roman society, each sect dedicated to a god or goddess of the Roman pantheon. Yet the three major sects of the Flamens worshipped Mars, Quirinis, and of course, Jupiter. If one wanted to extend a specialized offering or prayer to a god, they would venture to the temple and consult with the Flamen.

The interior temple was heated and dimly lit by numerous candles that flickered shadows across the walls, statues of all the variations of Jupiter that Romans named him were positioned with care at every end of the temple. The deeper he ventured, the more he noticed how the sounds from the outside dimmed, until it was only the echo of those inside worshipping which was the only noise present. Sweet myrrh incense was draped over the inside to better clear the mind of those who offered to the Greatest God.

Vitus drew near to a life-size statue of _Jupiter Optimus Maximus_ —the Best and Greatest—which had an eagle rested proudly on his shoulder as he stood straight, his heavy marble eyes peering directly into the young man. Vitus turned around at the sound of shuffling feet behind him. A Flamen had approached him. The priest wore a leather skullcap on his head and a heavy cloak of wool that draped over his body.

He smiled warmly and spoke softly, "Welcome, soldier, may Jupiter Optimus Maximus bless the ground that you tread upon. How may I be of service?"

Vitus smiled to the Flamen, "I seek to make a donation to Jupiter, the Greatest of the Great, if you would have my offering?"

The priest nodded and extended his hand. "It is not I that accepts it, but Jupiter himself. I would say a prayer if you allow me?"

"Gratitude, but I have a prayer of my own, but you may stay there and observe me."

The Flamen bowed and lit several beeswax candles at the feet of the statue and backed away a respectful distance. Vitus placed twenty denarii into the offering cup, a strand of his hair, and sliced his palm and allowed the drops to descend upon his offering. Then, he removed a pouch from his hip and removed a small wooden totem, whittled in his own image by his late father. His father told him that the in the olden times, the Julii would craft a totem for each of its sons as a charm for good fortune; yet such practice has fallen out of favor. Yet his father reminded him that all his victories in battle came from praying with the totem, the only time his father did not pray resulted in his final battle and defeat. Vitus was determined to carry his totem with him wherever he could; and no matter which god he prayed to, his totem will be in front of him.

"Before your wisdom and grace stands Vitus of the Julii, awarded the name Germanicus, son of Lucius of the Julii, awarded the name Magnus. I beseech thine wondrous blessing, oh Jupiter Optimus Maximus. You who control the heavens and watch over the fates of Man, I beseech thine wondrous blessing. I beseech thine wondrous blessing not on me, but for my family. I ask for protection to all those of my blood, for my wife so that she may find content in life with me. I ask for healing for her father and protection over her house from plague and violence. I beseech thine wondrous attitude to bestow the mere fraction of your wisdom upon me, so that I may solve this mystery with the Arcani. Bless me with sight beyond sight, temper my emotions and expand my mind, if you would allow it. I give you my blood and gold to appease you, though I have no livestock to sacrifice, I do hope this shall suffice. Bless you, oh Jupiter Optimus Maximus, the God among Gods, I bless your might and wisdom. Long live the glorious Republic of Rome and long live the Julii that grants Rome her strength."

He bowed his head and wrapped his bleeding hand around his totem, and kissed it. As he finished, the Flamen offered a clean piece of cloth to bandage his cut.

The priest postured himself straight and asked, "A wondrous prayer, that was. Jupiter smiles down on your benevolence. What did you say your name was, young patrician?"

"Vitus of the Julii, known as Germanicus."

His lips tightened in surprise before he nodded surely, "Even better that a Julii made an offering!"

"Such jubilance can be better directed towards a question I hold."

"And what would that be?"

"As you know of me, I am a general of many veterans and I come to Massilia in search of a few of them to offer a slot in the Evocati."

"A prestigious honor for these veterans, I imagine."

"Of that there is no doubt, yet I hold trouble of finding one veteran and I was told that he worked here as a cleaner. His name is Hilarus Murio."

His eyes widened and his mouth formed in a smile, "Ah yes, Murio, he did work here but decided to leave some time ago. He was a troubled soul at first but found piety by the mercy of the Gods."

"Do you know where he could have gone?"

"He told us that the Gods beckoned him to the capital of Rome. Yet I sent letters to fellow Flamens of Jupiter in the main temple in Rome to be on the lookout for him and to aid him if they saw him. Yet none have seen him. We also send our brothers to lands far, mostly Greece. Several men from our Massilia sect here ventured to Athens, and a few of them have spotted Hilarus Murio roaming within Athens."

"Athens? Quite a ways from Rome, now isn't it?"

The priest chuckled amiably, "Indeed it is."

"Were they sure it was him? Did they speak to him?"

"In their letters they said they were positive it was him and tried to broach speech, but he disappeared before they could."

"How long ago was such a sighting?"

"Uh… it is hard to say but, maybe two months ago… three, perhaps?"

The young legate sighed. _Of course it had to be_ _ **that**_ _long ago…_ "For what purpose do you believe he would bear false tongue of his whereabouts?"

The priest sighed as well, "I do not know. I would stay hopeful that his intentions were true, yet he had to venture to Greece. And on such falsehood… he was troubled when he came to us. He was occupied in drink and violence, like many veterans who return from war. But he found grace with the Gods and came to our temple. I do not know if he still resides in Athens, but our brothers have not seen him in Rome. Wherever he is, I do pray to Jupiter that he is at peace."

 _He is, I can assure you that._ Vitus scratched the back of his head and eyed the ground, "I do as well, Flamen. You must be busy with your duties. I extend gratitude for you taking the time to speak with me."

"Of course, Julius Germanicus. I extend my gratitude unto you for visiting our temple and praying to the Greatest God. I hope you find Murio and if so, please tell him that we at the temple are keeping him in our prayers."

Vitus didn't say a word. All he could do was suck his teeth and give a nod. Another lie he had to keep and another person he would have to inform of Murio's death.

The legate was greeted by Evandrus and Ligadis upon his exit. His body slave immediately went to work, tending the cut on his hand. Ligadis walked up with both hands on his hips, his face showing mild impatience, "So, do we know where Murio is?"

 _I do, but not where his cult could be._ "No." It was too easy seeing disappointment in the wrinkled brow on the Thracian Captain. Vitus was sure he himself was wearing it too.

Ligadis exhaled, "So what now?"

Vitus took a squat in the shade next to his other bodyguards, "I don't know. I don't know where else to look and who else to ask. We'll be heading back home shortly."

Evandrus offered him some water, Vitus accepted. As the cool liquid washed down his throat, he sat there thinking in frustration. The priest and his neighbors said he was in Rome, but then there were sightings of him in Athens. And yet no one saw him in Rome. A dull pounding was in the back of his head. He hated this. He was a soldier, not a manhunter sent to track wayward men and their crimes. On days like these, there was something that made warfare seem utterly simple and pleasant compared to this intrigue.

He looked to his men, the sudden thought popping into his head. "You all hungry?"

The Thracians gave him a smile, "Yes."

He stopped for a meal around the Forum to wrap his head around this mystery. He supped on fish that had been deboned and purchased a bottle of white wine to drink. As expected of a port city, the seafood was exquisite; his men definitely made their approval of the quality vocal. Diza smirked at several giggling girls resting in the shade from a distance that were eyeing him, even inviting them to come join him, and made a sleazy pun about deboning of fish and their bodies. Thankfully, Terxun gave him a slap in the back of the head as the other Thracians laughed at him. Vitus noticed the happiness and the lavishness within several of its citizens, and some people were singing songs, others were pointing out eagerly of all the colored sails of galleys that entered port. Such tranquility around him. This tranquility…

He swallowed a piece of the fish and announced to his retinue, "Apologies, but we cannot leave just yet. There's one more place I need to go, and with a few more questions upon my tongue."

* * *

Being a Legatus certainly had its advantages, but being a Julius allowed him to open up virtually any door within the Julii territory. He strolled up to the Governor's Palace in the middle of Massilia and walked through the doors, showing all guards the token of the Julii upon his armor. Something that would take the wealthy an appointment to enter the Palace had only taken him about ten seconds. It seemed like the inside of the palace was a maze of activity. Slaves running left and right to fill some needs, irritated merchants storming out cursing, guards being called down the hall for assistance, a loud clamoring of anger coming from upstairs. Damn near a madhouse.

A retainer noticed the young man and scurried over with a forced smile. "Welcome to the Governor's Palace, how may I assist you?"

"Greetings, I am Vitus of the Julii, known as Germanicus. I am here for Aulus Oppius."

The retainer gulped softly and bowed, "Such is great to hear that one is finally searching for him, hold for a moment as I shall fetch someone."

"Wait! What do you—"

He was gone, running to call for a tribune. Vitus decided it best to follow him among the confusion. After taking a more steps up the stairs, the clamoring grew louder. Around the corner was the sight of men sharply dressed in exquisite and clean tunics, were waving scrolls in anger at a heavy door in front of them. They cursed, yelled, and spat at the door; and would have probably torn it down if not for the guards who were stationed in front of it who pushed them off. The man he followed had to force his way through the small mob into the door.

Not fifteen seconds later, the door opened and the clamoring roared to an apex. The guards were forcing them back and made a hole for a man to exit the door and beeline straight for the legate. Vitus recognized him as the Tribune under Oppius during the Suebi Invasion.

"You," Vitus said, "I recall you. You are… uh, Caranius!"

"Indeed I am. It is good to see you, Legatus Germanicus!" He shook Vitus' hand firmly. His face looked utterly ragged. "You came to the city quicker than I expected, but I do not complain."

"What do you mean?"

"Tribune! I demand to be seen by Governor Oppius!" a patrician shouted, waving his sealed parchment furiously.

"I have a shipment of spices for Sardinia that is stalled without the Governor's seal! Where is he, Tribune?!" a merchant yelled.

"Forget your shipment, fool! _I_ may lose 15 talents of gold if my papers are not signed by today! Where is the Governor?! If this is not signed, then you **shall** reimburse me, Tribune!" sneered a third man.

"Patience, I beg you! I have urgent business with the Legatus." He said, all while avoiding eye contact.

Caranius led the confused young man away to a more private room, the angered echoes seemed to follow them in the hallways. Once the doors were closed, the Tribune exhaled noisily and poured him a cup of wine. "Thank the Gods for your arrival, Legatus. It could not have been more fortuitous."

"Why were those merchants and patricians pressed to frenzy, Tribune?"

"Uh, did you not receive the courier that I sent out to Arretium?"

"No I did not," His tone was sharp. He was getting tired of being looked at like a fool today. "Nor did I meet one upon the road. Did his message entail about the riot?"

Caranius downed a cup of wine and took a seat in a chair. "Yes and no." He sighed, "From the beginning then, I can only imagine that you are surprised to see that the city and its docks are completely intact. Our legions were ready to settle disorder within this settlement but were greeted not with cheers of relief, but with cheers of victory of conquest. I spoke to Prefect Pulcher upon our return, and he assured me that no rioting occurred. Nor did he send couriers out for Oppius when we resided in Lugdunum."

"Are you certain?"

"I am. He insisted he did not send anyone."

Vitus was trying so hard to recall the face of the messenger, but he just couldn't. "So who was that man that came to our camp? And for what reason did he claim Massilia was revolting?"

"I've been thinking over such a thing for these past days, Legatus, believe me. Yet that is the least of our worries at the moment."

Vitus looked to the door, the shouting could still be heard. "The wealthy are harassing you? Where is Oppius to soothe their souls?"

Tribune Caranius put down his cup and sucked his teeth. "Legatus, Aulus Oppius never returned."

"What?" The image of Oppius drinking the night they all separated had flashed in his mind. "What about Quintus Sertorius? Did he arrive in Hispania?"

"He did. After a day, I sent a courier to Sertorius, and I was given a message back with his seal. Sertorius even commanded some of his cavalry to aid us in patrolling the regions to search for Oppius. And we found nothing. We sent men back to Lugdunum, the townsmen verified that Oppius and his retinue did leave the morning after, and nothing strange had occurred upon their departure."

Why couldn't he remember the courier's face? "Do you believe that the courier lied to draw out Oppius?" Vitus asked.

"Such thoughts ran in my mind, but I cannot figure out motivations behind such. And if such is true, then where is he? His bodyguards, their horses, their arms and armor; we found no trace of any of them." Caranius rested his head in his hands. "It seems as if Jupiter himself had plucked them out of existence entirely…"

"No riot… a false courier… and no Oppius… what is going on?" _Could the Arcani have done this? If so, why did they want Oppius? Possible ransom? They would have heard received such notice sooner if such was the case…_

"I do not know what to do anymore, Legatus," the Tribune continued with a groan. "You saw those men, they are demanding to see him. We have searched everywhere from here to Lugdunum."

"Then double them. Send out more patrols, offer rewards for citizens and manhunters for any clues. Do whatever you can to find Oppius. You do your part and I'll do mine."

"If I may ask, what shall you do?"

"I shall give your news directly to my uncle in Arretium. He'll figure out a solution to this conundrum. This city seems to be running well without the direct influence of Oppius. You and the prefect are doing well, maintain order within this settlement. We cannot allow commerce to falter."

"I understand, yet Oppius had many trade contacts and investments, those meagre few who threatened to break down the door were among them. Oppius was a shrewd man who kept many… financial assurances and contacts to himself. Not even the treasurers of this city know about some of his dealings. All of this was to assure that only he could manage this city to its full potential. With his absence, they all claim that only Oppius can sign off on some documentation or pay them private funds, and other… um, illicit activities. If they are not dealt with, I fear they may spark an actual riot here. This is becoming too much. We'll need a new governor, and I'm a soldier. Since you are in the city, and a Julii, technically you can stay here as governor. The Ides approach in a few days and a governor should be present to observe the ceremony."

"The Ides." Vitus recalled. The Ides were a day within the Roman calendar which signified the middle of the month. This month would have a full moon within the sky, a particularly powerful omen to Jupiter. The priests of each Roman city would offer a public sacrifice of a white lamb to Jupiter himself to bless the city until the next Ides come. Vitus then recalled how when he left, Proculus told him that he would take his wife, Appia, and Titia, out to a random settlement around the coast to observe the ceremony of the Ides. But here in Massilia, Oppius' absence would definitely be noticed. Vitus mused on the thought further, he could technically take the position of governor, at least just for the ceremony…

"I could, yet I… I have duties of my own that require my attention." _Sulla is not a man to be kept waiting, especially with Titia's family in his hands…_

"I see… So, what shall I tell them about Oppius?"

"Well, what have you been telling them?"

"That Oppius still remains away from the city for rest and leisure, he seeks to not be disturbed with business. This only infuriates them."

"Hmm… well… you should… uh, hmm… well since he is absent, you speak with the authority of the governor, the treasury is full, I assume. Pay them what they ask, and you be the judge of the limit for such affairs—no, wait! Better yet, give them extra if you can as "interest" for such inconvenient delays. And if they hold problem with unjust wages, then they can take it up with my uncle in Arretium and see how _he_ likes to settle accounts. If they make threats, then use your soldiers if you have to, but maintain order. You became a tribune to rise and gain political positioning, correct?"

"I did, yes."

"Then such is your first task. Maintain order here in Oppius' absence—especially in the realm of commerce—and I shall speak with my uncle. Oh, that's right! I also have the ear of Sulla. Maybe we three can secure a promotion to Quaestor for you in the near future. After all, commerce is the root of civic virtue, and what better trait to have in the Senate along with the title of Quaestor."

Caranius' face glowed. "Truly?"

"Truly. You are a soldier, now it's time to be the politician, Caranius. My uncle shall send someone skilled in finance and management to keep commerce flowing. In the meanwhile, do what you can here, Caranius, you must."

He tightened his lips and nodded, "I shall."

"That's what I want to hear." Vitus stood to rise. "Be firm with them, envision them as… wayward recruits, show them who's in command."

A determined gaze radiated off of Caranius. "Gratitude, Germanicus."

He stood to leave, "Do your duty, keep searching for Oppius, send any information about your progress to me in Arretium. I'll do what I can to aid you."

* * *

"Oh, I know that look," Ligadis remarked. "Nothing positive came out on meeting Oppius, hasn't it?"

Vitus was walking out of the Palace, rubbing his scarred hands in contemplation. "In a way."

Ligadis grew a cocky grin, "So you mean to say that this entire trip here has been pointless?"

"Feels that way in one regard, but productive in another." The sun glared down on him, the soft pounding in his head grew in intensity. He massaged his forehead and groaned, "You wouldn't happen to carry wine on you, Ligadis?"

"I can fetch you some if you desire, _Dominus_ ," said Evandrus with soft politeness.

"Please. Red or white, it makes no matter. I need a damn drink." He gave some gold to Evandrus, and the loyal slave hustled off to the Forum. Vitus felt very tired. All those days on the road to answer a few questions had only birthed more questions and few answers. The leads he had had turned up empty. A city he thought quelled of insurrection may now birth rebellion in the future, and the governor responsible is missing.

He did pity Caranius, but he hoped his "bribe" of possible attaining of Quaestor will motivate the Tribune to get the wealthy under control. And Oppius… Vitus groaned aloud, to think that he would keep all the patricians and merchants in his circle so that only he would profit from them. Such a corruptible man, could he not see what would happen to the city if he was removed from it? Or did he not plan that far ahead in his mind, only prioritizing the here and now. And whom to replace Oppius in the meanwhile. Cousin Statius? He was good with trade and order; he could be a decent governor. Massilia was too important a city to be left ungoverned.

"Well, where to now, Vitus?" the Thracian asked.

He sighed. That was **the** question. Where to go? Arretium? Or Rome? He did tell Caranius that he would head back immediately to Arretium to alert Uncle Decius. And yet he swore to Sulla that he return with any news he found about the Arcani. The choice may not have been seen as dividing, but this one puzzled him. He could easily go to one city and travel to the next one a day later. But in his experience, a day of time can make all the difference in the world. But where would he go first; his family or his liege?

"Back to the Italian peninsula," he finally answered. We shall take the road; I hope we may come across some findings of Oppius." _I shall better decide this later when we get on the road._

Innocent parents of a cutthroat end up dead, reports of a riot were falsified, a governor is missing, and an archaic organization of assassins has resurfaced within the Republic. Vitus shivered at these thoughts, he gripped the handle to his sword tightly; just what in the world was he walking into…

* * *

 **Thank you for reading.  
**

 **-Kanuro5**


	7. The Bloody Ides

**Note from Kanuro:** This is the longest chapter so far, but I believe its worth it to complete a cohesive narrative going. Also, I had this completed yesterday, but decided to proofread it once more before I published it. And another also, the school year has begun again and as a full-time teacher, updates will be coming in at a slower rate, but I'll still try to complete this the best I can. Anywho, enjoy!

* * *

 **VII**

 **The Bloody Ides**

"We pray this in the name of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, He who reigns from the heavens and rains down his bounty over us. We exalt His eminence, oh Jupiter Optimus Maximus."

The other priests chanted solemnly, "Jupiter Optimus Maximus."

"For the Ides, we come before you with an offering to your benevolence, oh Jupiter Optimus Maximus."

"Jupiter Optimus Maximus."

The offering bleated calmly, strolling along with the man pulling its leash. The lamb twisted its head from side-to-side curiously, possibly wondering why these throngs of five thousand people were looking at it and mumbling prayers and blessings. This lamb—whose' fleece was clear as snow—was to be an offering to the Greatest and Mightiest of the Gods. Vitus recalled how Jupiter would receive a bull offering upon the kalends, yet this lamb was supposed to satisfy Jupiter? How truly fickle in appetite the Gods of above were, compared to the mortals below.

Vitus had a good spot to watch the procession. He was underneath a statue of one of his many ancestors that he had to think about to recall. The statue was in the middle of the Town Square in the settlement of Genoa. He figured that he could get to Arretium within a day if he hurried from Genoa, but he reconsidered, for today was the observation of the Ides—the halfway point of the month. Such observance was considered sacred—this holiday was to ensure the gods would bless the city with good fortune for the rest of month. All cities of the Republic were observing this day.

The lamb was being led down the procession and stopped close to the entrance of the Great Temple of Jupiter. The priests and lamb pivoted towards an elongated podium that stood twelve feet high. On such auspicious holidays, it was customary for the governor and his family of the settlement to overlook the offering before it entered the temple. From where he stood in the crowd, Vitus had a clear line of sight of the governor of Genoa.

Herennius Julius was a portly man at the age of 40, and it seemed like he gained another chin underneath his jowls. His chestnut brown hair was thinning and the fleshiness of his face made his expression naturally sink into a scowl. But such was far from his nature. He was a jolly man who looked to please and help others, putting his own wishes behind him for the sake of people. His management and his influence of the governor were average at best but he still could run the city's tax into a profit for the Julii.

A smirk of pride grew on Vitus' face, his distant cousin of some tangled relation stood tall on the podium with a stoic expression, eyeing the sacrificial lamb. Someone in front of Vitus moved out of the way, Vitus then saw the entire podium. Four more people were up there with Herennius. His brother—Proculus, his sister-in-law—Appia, their four year-old son—Lucius, and his wife—Titia. Vitus' eyes enlarged in surprise, "What are they doing here?" he said to himself.

He then remembered the eve upon his departure from Arretium, Proculus told him he would take the family to watch the Ides in a city close to Arretium. All of the Julii upon the podium wore clothing dipped in brilliant red and had trims of black going down their garments. They all wore the masks of solemnity, even young Lucius. The procession of the Ides was a serious affair, no one dared to utter a noise.

The lead priest raised his voice and stretched out his arms to Herennius, "What say you under the auspices of Father Jupiter?"

Herennius extended his hand out to the statue, his voice booming, "Under the auspices of Father Jupiter, I, Herennius of the Julii, Governor of Genoa, do hereby beseech the merciful Sky Father for protection and fortune for the settlement of Genoa. May commerce thrive, may its citizens be safe, may the harvest be bountiful, may your name be praised. So beseech the Julii."

Proculus, Appia, and Titia extended their hands out as well, even little Lucius. They all said as one, "So beseech the Julii."

 _I should be up there, I should…_ he bit his lower lip; a small pain throbbed inside of him.

The priests didn't speak, they made a short pivot and continued down the street.

The priestly procession prepared to enter the halls of the temple. The docile land eyed holy placed and stopped suddenly. It began to buck and bleat furiously, as if aware of its upcoming demise. The priest in charge of the lamb pulled its leash harder, but the lamb only frenzied more. It took another man to help drag the white lamb into the temple against its will. Everyone in the crowd was murmuring, fear was in their eyes. Vitus knew why, parts of him were shivering. What a horrible omen for the people in this settlement.

And that was it. The ritual ended upon the entry of the offering into the temple. The priests would kill the lamb in the privacy of the sanctuary, and the masses of people would wait leave then return with two hours to receive the news of the offering. So the crowd dispersed after the procession ended, many still frightened after the offering gaff.

Somehow among the throng, Little Lucius was the first one to see him. His smile beamed as he tugged on his mother's stola, "Mother, look! It's Uncle Vitus!"

They looked everywhere in the crowd until they spotted him with surprise, "Vitus!" Titia was the first one down the podium, with Proculus behind her. Vitus gave her a quick hug before shaking his brother's hand.

"What are you doing here, Vitus?" he asked.

"Indeed," Titia questioned with a raised brow, "Were you not going to Massilia?"

"I did, Titia. I left a few days ago, I remembered the Ides were upon us, so I decided to stop in Genoa to observe it. I was mighty surprised to see you all here."

"Uncle Decius desired I give a message to Herennius," Proculus explained, "So I decided it best to take Appia, Lucius, and Titia here for a little vacation. See the port and enjoy the beach and all of that. So what of you? How was your business in Massilia? Is everything alright there?"

 _No, nothing is right…_ "I shall tell you about it later, Proculus."

"Vitus!" The young legatus felt something constricting his arms and body and lifting him up in the air. "It is so good to see you again!" Deep laughter came from behind him.

Vitus was wheezing from the hug, "Herennius! Please release me."

The jolly governor placed him back on his feet. Titia and Appia giggled at the sight of "The Mighty Germanicus" catching his breath from a hug. Proculus laughed at him. Herennius slapped his back, "It has been too long, Vitus. Too long!"

"Yes, indeed," Vitus chuckled awkwardly. "You know, Herennius, it is unbecoming of a governor to be seen doing that."

"Oh what will the people do, complain more? Ha! I'm used to such squalling. Besides, I care not, for we are blood. I am surprised you are here, when did you arrive?"

"About an hour ago. I was in the crowd watching the procession."

"You should have joined us in the podium, Vitus."

"And break through the procession, I think not."

Titia nodded, "I believe Vitus is right on that accord. It would make the Gods even angrier."

Herennius sighed, "Do not speak of anger, I have had many speak to be about the offering, and they were angry. Actually, I see that I am called forth to intervene in another matter. I fear this may take me into the night. Tell you what; you all enjoy yourselves in my city and return to the Governor's Palace as the sun sets. I shall make a lovely feast for you all in celebration of the Ides."

"That is wonderful!" Appia gushed.

"Yay!" Little Lucius cheered.

Vitus chuckled lightly, "Herennius, gratitude for the offer, but you do not have to do this." _Sulla needs to learn of my failure as soon as possible…_

"Join us, Vitus. I insist," Herennius smiled. "It has been a while since we all gathered in communion, I humbly insist."

Titia wrapped an arm around Vitus, "Besides, you do not plan to leave me again, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Good." She tugged his arm rather forcefully, yet still wore a mild smile. "Because we are staying!"

* * *

It was a good idea to stay. The long couches of the dining room were positioned in a U shape with Vitus and Titia positioned on the couch to the left, Proculus and Appia parallel to them on the couch to the right, and Herennius as the host reclined peacefully on the center couch. Platters of beef, oysters, licker-fish, and purple grapes were presented out in front of the guest with the most delectable of aromas. And wine, so much wine was offered to them. This was a lovely feast indeed. Vitus thought about Sulla and how he expressed urgency. But after being on the road for a week and coming up with dead ends, plus with his reunited wife by his side with her warm and soft flesh touching his'; Sulla could wait for all that Vitus cared.

It was a good time inside the Palace. The low lit braziers created a refined dining atmosphere, a slave was playing his lyre melodiously, Proculus and Herennius laughed as they drank the wine heavily. Little Lucius had been continually asking him for stories about his war with the Suebi, Vitus figured he must have repeated the same battle a dozen times; yet such request was from his nephew, so he could retell it a hundred more just for him. Titia found some ways to playfully tease him about his battles, but he didn't mind. After an hour of eating, Appia took Lucius by the hand and took him away to their chamber.

Appia momentarily returned, crawling over to Proculus with an exhausted sigh.

"Is Lucius fast asleep?" Proculus asked her.

"Not quite, he was still speaking of disemboweling barbarians and serving under Vitus. I'm having Numeria to make sure he's asleep." She turned an eye to Vitus. "You _had_ to fill his head with your exploits, didn't you?"

Vitus shrugged with a smirk, "He asked. And I love my nephew. He'll grow into a proper soldier when he comes of age. I'll gladly put him on my staff."

Proculus drank from his cup, "He'll become another great general, like his namesake. I'll promise you that."

"I sure hope so. Better he inherits skills from his grandfather, rather than his father."

Proculus threw a grape at the laughing Vitus.

Titia looked into the wine in her cup. "That was certainly odd… at the procession."

"With the lamb? I quite agree." Herennius broke off a piece of steamed carp and tossed it into his mouth. "I've been pestered by so many about what could befall Genoa, I turned their questions to the Augurs, and they replied that Jupiter desires blood."

"Whose blood?" Appia asked. "Blood of beasts? Blood of men? Barbarians? Romans?"

"That's what I desired to know, but they were vague; as always. Hmph, priests… if they cannot interpret the will of the Gods, then what good are they?"

"Calming the people," Titia stated.

"Bread, circus, and wine calms people; and if Bacchus could make it rain such, then I guarantee I would be more inclined to religion. No, Titia, if priests are meant to calm the people, then they would be mumbling words to fight off plagues."

Titia put her cup down, her face falling in depression. Vitus sucked his teeth and gave a half-hearted glare to Herennius.

Herennius turned to the young girl, "What is wrong, Titia?"

"Oh, you see, my father… he had been inflicted by the plague that grips Rome, but he is recovering. He was able to rise from his bed and the _medicus_ claims that the disease shall pass within a few weeks."

"Oh, uh… apologies for my comments, I did not mean… But I am glad he is recovering."

"As am I." Proculus claimed. "Upon his recovery, we should all go somewhere luxurious."

"Oh Proculus, such is not necessary—"

"I insist, Titia! You are family. The war is over in Germania, Vitus has returned a hero, your father is recovering from plague, and you and Vitus have been reunited; such is a reason to host a trip for the family. How about… the warm sun of Sardinia?"

Appia sipped on her wine and smiled gently, "That sounds wonderful!"

Vitus nudged Titia's arm, "Have you been to Sardinia before?"

"Few times. The climate was enjoyable but I have seen better."

"Well, I believe you have never seen Sardinia with a Julius, correct?"

Titia chuckled mischievously, wine on her breath. She wrapped her soft arm around his arm. "I would quite enjoy a trip to Sardinia with a Julius by my side."

He smirked, "Would you now?"

"Provided that you find a _real_ Julius."

Vitus drank some wine, "That stung worse than any Germanic blade." She chuckled loudly. He pursed his lips and turned to Proculus and Appia, "Do you see how verbally ruthless she is to me? That damn tongue of hers."

Titia cocked an eyebrow and grinned slyly, "Oh stop it, you know you enjoy my tongue."

Proculus and Appia looked at one another and smirked. The senior couple returned their eyes on them.

Appia smiled, "You two seem rather happy."

"Well I am," Titia said, plucking a grape from the plate. "I cannot say for Vitus though."

"Indeed. Every time I see her and she inflicts some jests on me with that quick and barbed tongue of hers for her amusement."

She stroked his cheek, "Oh husband, it's not my fault that you stand gullible."

"I do not stand gullible!"

Proculus chuckled loudly, "Ha! Titia listen to this tale. When we were younger—I believe when he was five and I was ten—he once asked why piss was yellow, right? I told him because Jupiter blesses the human body with gold and it is good fortune to drink it. He drank cups of his own piss for an entire week until our father caught him."

Herennius laughed heartily. Titia's face was mixed in surprised disgust, but she laughed as well. Vitus drank from his cup wordlessly; his cheeks blushed with mild redness.

Proculus looked at him with a devilish smirk, "Remember that, you little piss-drinker?"

Vitus chuckled mischievously, "I also recalled how you, Proculus, sampled piss. You were so drunk one night that you could not make it to a chamber-pot, so you pissed in a cup and then mistook that for liquor and drank from it. Didn't he do that one night, Appia?"

She sighed with an eye roll. "Indeed, I refused to kiss him for a week after that…"

Titia and Herennius laughed harder. Proculus instantly and wordlessly downed another cup of wine.

Herennius' laughter soon ebbed, and then he commented, "You two must have been through a lot."

Vitus put down his cup, "We have been. There was a time when I could not stand this…" his mouth formed into a grin, "This arrogant, depraved sot."

Proculus raised his cup to Vitus, "Same to you, you scrawny two-eyed bastard."

"Indeed," said Appia, "Those were… awkward times."

"What happened?" Titia asked. "Such rivalry between brothers could not have been too serious?"

Both of the Julii laughed. Proculus pointed to the long scar on the bridge of his nose, "You say such, but Vitus gave me this."

Titia blinked. "Vitus, **you** did that?" It seemed as if another mystery behind him had been revealed.

The younger brother nodded, "He stole a hundred denarii from me and I took Romulus—the horse our father initially planned to give to him as a present for his birthday—for myself as recompense."

"You took it from him?"

"Yes, through a contest of combat. Me against him, in front of the entire first cohort. We had real swords and the first person to draw blood thrice was claimed victor. It was overseen by our father, with mother and Appia watching as well. I got the first two blows in quickly, but the third, I was furious at the time and carved the steel into the bridge of his nose. Oh Proculus, you never stood a chance against me, did you?"

For the first time that night, Proculus actually looked sheepish, "I… wasn't at my best with the sword at the time."

Appia rolled her eyes once more, "I'll say…"

Proculus turned to his wife, his face stricken with horrified surprise, "You too, Appia?"

Now it was Vitus' turn to laugh. Everyone began laughing except for Proculus, who ordered his cup to be refilled once more.

Herennius slowly moved off his couch and stretched with a yawn, "Well, apologies to you all as my guest, but I fear it is time for me to pursue some much needed dreams in my chamber."

"Oh, do not worry," said Appia, "We will go now."

"No, no, no; I insist. Stay to eat and drink, at your leisure. You are my guest, and as host, I extend for you four to continue in my absence."

"Are you sure?" Vitus asked.

"I am. Here, my servants shall still serve you food and wine if you desire it. A long day requires a longer slumber."

"Goodnight, Herennius," the two couples said to him as he walked back to his bedchambers.

The four of them took him up on his offer. For another half hour, they enjoyed themselves with humorous stories, jokes, and the delicacies of finger-food and wine. Vitus had long switched out his wine for water instead, as had Appia. Yet Titia and Proculus were drinking a good share of the wine. The legatus was getting worried; he knew Proculus could handle his large amounts of wine—especially with his larger body. But the sixteen year old girl with a small frame, could she?

"Uh, Titia? Perhaps you better drink some water now." Vitus tried to be subtle with it.

She turned to him, her cheeks were red and her eyes looked flushed. She rested her head upon his reclining shoulder and broke out an impish grin. She said softly, "Perhaps… or perhaps you better drink some wine now, huh Vitus? Some wine? For you? Wine-wine-wine for you?"

"Titia, sweetling," Appia said to her gently, "Maybe Vitus is right? Some water will do you good."

She stared at Appia for a good moment and smiled pleasantly at her. Then swung her head to Vitus, "I'm only drinking water now because Appia asked me too! You understand, Vitus?"

Proculus' heavy hand fell upon Appia's backside, making her yelp in surprise. Proculus unearthed a wide grin of his own, "I understand, Titia. Believe me, my wife Appia is _great_ at motivation."

Vitus picked up on Proculus' increasing arousal. Proculus placed his hand on Appia's milky skin and caressed her, bringing his hand down from her shoulder to her supple thighs. Appia tried to subtly brush his hand off of her, yet her face told Vitus that she was fighting her rising arousal from his sensual petting. Proculus whispered something into her ears as he was looking at Vitus and Titia. Appia's eyes shot open, "What did you say?!"

"Appia… it was only a suggestion."

"What? What suggestion?" slurred Titia.

"Hear me out! Just hear me out. We are all together once more. Vitus is back from the War. Titia has returned and her father is recovering. We all are family once again, reunited on the night of the Ides. Would a night such as this not best be commemorated if I lay with my wife, and you, Vitus, lay with your wife, all four of us together? In passionate embraces."

Vitus spat out his water. The brazen Titia laughed at the thought. Appia stared at her husband.

"What?" the three of them said at once.

Proculus drank from his wine again, "Is such not a good idea?"

Titia looked to the ceiling, "Well, such is the most frank manner I have ever been asked to participate in an orgy… And I have never been asked into an orgy, so this… is rather special." She sipped on her water as she finished, and patted Vitus' back to stop his coughing.

"That is enough wine for you, Proculus," Appia said with a roll of her eyes, and a half smile. "He only jests," her smile turned into a stare of annoyance, "for I know he certainly doesn't mean it."

"Just a little fun. Couldn't hurt to… experiment." He reached out and cupped Appia's breast fondly, she quickly smacked his hand away with a blush. The elder brother continued, "Would it not, Vitus, or are you too pious for such thoughts?"

"I am too tired for such thoughts. I believe it best to retire."

"I do as well." Appia said

She stood to stand, but Proculus quickly seized her waist with both arms and pulled her back on the couch. Her legs went in the air, but Proculus caught one of them with his hands and with the other he brushed her cheek and nibbled on her ear. An audible moan exited Appia's lips.

Titia giggled, "Ooh, you two are getting started, eh?"

Appia's face turned bright red, "Um, no! No we're not, that was… uh…" she cleared her throat and stood to her feet. "I am retiring to bed." She bolted off the couch and scurried off to the bedchambers, her face still painted with embarrassment. Proculus gave his brother a wink and drunkenly chased after her with lusty chuckling.

Vitus sighed, "I do not believe that anyone in this Palace shall sleep tonight now."

"Neither do I," Titia said, "Let's hurry to bed before they get **too** busy."

* * *

"Your brother is quite humorous," said Titia bubbly, as she jumped on the bed provided to her and Vitus by Herennius. The bedchamber was spacious and positioned directly next to an open balcony that looked over Genoa. The night sky draped into the dark room, which was dimly lit by the braziers.

Vitus cracked a smirk and spoke dryly, "Indeed, a damn comedian. A true Menander." Evandrus was helping him take off his armor before he joined his wife in bed.

"His talk of the four of us entangled in coupling… His wife, Appia, a true beauty if ever there was one. Do you not agree?"

"That she is."

Her speech was as bouncy as a song, "I bet you wouldn't have mind, shoving your manhood inside her as I watched."

His eyes flared up and he turned around. She gave him a strange little smile, like a cat, "You held affection for her. Once." His lips quivered in confusion, but she answered, "Women can tell such things."

"It was… I was young—"

She giggled and fell backwards onto the pillows, "Oh, you are adorable, Germanicus."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Are you drunk?"

"Oh if we stayed out there longer, I would have been. Completely. I feel the effects yet I do not believe if I am completely. Is such strange. Oh, wait! Would you prefer me to be? Would you prefer me to be flushed in the face, my breath warm and haggard, my eyes glazed, my mouth loose, and my thighs seeping with delectable moisture and—"

"What, are, you?"

"Your wife."

He snickered lightly, "Perhaps it was a mistake to have wine without it being watered down."

"Pfft," she made with her lips, "I am glad we did, my family never encouraged drinking of wine, not even my father. I often overheard senators noting how strange it was for a man not to drink wine. All we ever drank was water. One of the richest families in Rome, and we drank water every day."

"That is truly odd."

"Now that I recall, you barely touched your wine."

"I tend not to drink with my brother. Or at least as heavily as he does."

"So he's more social than you and he enjoys drinking? He's bigger than you and is quite handsome… Maybe we should put that idea of an orgy into action…"

He spun around, her smile was ear-to-ear; snickering at his reactions. He smirked softly with a groan and turned back around to undress.

"Who would have thought a Legatus would be so easy to tease?" she laughed.

He couldn't refrain from a chuckle. It was funny. She looked at him as he placed his sleeping tunic on. "Vitus, do you find that I jest too much with you?"

"Oh yes."

He turned around to smile, but her face hung in mild disappointment. "But it is all in good taste," he added.

"What would you call the situation if I never threw jests upon you?"

"A pleasant fantasy."

She laughed heartily, "Oh, it is a fantasy that you desire. Alright, let us imagine in this 'pleasant fantasy' that you are a dashing, noble husband—"

"And you are a beautiful, devoted, pious, and serious wife," he said with a smile.

"Come my dashing, noble husband. It is mighty chilly in here, and I do not believe that the brazier may be enough to warm the bed."

 _Does she mean?_ He inhaled through his nose, and tried to mask his expression as romantic as possible. His loins were stirring. He walked over to the bed and leaned over with both hands on the edge, like a lion ready to pounce. "I adore the way you think. Your flesh is the warmth I crave… actually, it _is_ cold in here, isn't it?"

Her smile faded as she finally took note of it. "Huh, you are right, it is."

"Peculiar…"

"Vitus?"

"Hmm?"

"Uh, why are the curtains open?" her finger pointed to the balcony window. The black curtains blew inwardly with the wind. The doors to the outside balcony were wide open. _The curtains? They were closed when we entered…_

A terrible wail stole into the night from within the villa. Both husband and wife shot up, alert and fearful of the cry.

"What was that?!" Titia asked.

"It sounded like Appia…" Vitus said.

"Why is she—" Titia turned to Vitus, and her skin paled. "VITUS!" Her arm shot out like a spear, her finger the point. Vitus followed her frightened stare and turned around.

A figure of pure shadow seemed to slither from behind the wool curtains and into the dancing shades of the brazier and charged at Vitus. From the manlike shadow, a dark tendril-like arm sprang from its body and in its grasp, a gleaming sword descending down on the young Legatus. Though his heart nearly stopped, experience and training took over his instincts. He leapt backwards, far enough away where he could feel the tip of the blade slicing the air a few centimeters from his chest.

The shadow swung again, and Vitus lunged forward and grabbed the blackened sword-arm and forced himself and the shadow up against the wall. Titia screamed, their individual slaves panicked. Within the din of the light, the shadow took the form of a man, his face obscure by a solid black mask. His arms were covered in a black fabric and his back was draped by a shadowy cloak. That black mask… _Murio…?_

The masked man grunted and pushed Vitus off of him, shoving him to the ground. Evandrus drew a dagger and charged the attacker, shouting "Dominus!" He hammered the dagger at the masked man, yet the man caught the arm at the wrist and shoved his sword through his sternum. Evandrus retched loudly and fell to the floor as the shadow man retracted the bloody sword; Evandrus was dead before he hit the ground.

Titia shrieked. Vitus' eyes lingered on his loyal slave's corpse. Anger and shocked blended together within, and he rose to his feet and charged at the masked man. He bent low and drove his shoulder into the killer's stomach, slamming him back against the wall with authority.

"Germanicus." Bellowed a deep voice from behind him. To his horror, Vitus turned to find a second masked man also draped in black, who was standing by the entrance of the bedchamber; and with Titia struggling hard against his grasp, the length of his _gladius_ pressed deeply into her throat.

"Titia…" he barked helplessly. Her body slave was unconscious on the ground with a large bleeding bruise on the side of her head.

"Move, and she dies." The voice came from the mask, "Yell, and she dies." _When did he—_

"Vitus, don't—!"

The man dug the edge of the sword deeper into her throat, she yelped from her teeth. Trickles of blood fell from her throat.

"All right! All right! Do not harm her! Please!"

The man's sword stopped. "The dagger at your side, discard it. **Now**."

"I shall, I shall. Do not harm her, I beg of you!"

Vitus took the dagger out of its sheath, he sneered. "What do you men want from me?!"

The specter did not answer.

Vitus gasped as he saw it. A guard under the employ of Herennius, was patrolling the halls as he spotted the intruders from the door and ran towards them with his sword drawn, prepared to cleave the man's head from his body.

But it was the first assassin that alerted the second one. "Behind you!"

The second assassin spun around and threw Titia into the attacking guard. Titia slammed into the guard and they both fell onto the floor. The second assassin rushed over to the downed guard and drove his sword through his chest. Titia screamed.

At that moment, Vitus had not yet thrown his dagger away. With it still in his hands in a reverse grip and with Titia out of the second assassin's grasp, Vitus spun around with a slash toward the first assassin and aimed for the man's throat. The assassin brought his arms out and the blade tore into the man's arm, drawing considerable amount of blood. The assassin grunted and jumped back, and Vitus leapt forward and planted a solid kick in the masked man's sternum, sending him back into the wall with force.

"Titia, run! Get the guards!" he ordered her.

Titia nodded fervently and quickly darted out of the room. But the second assassin was right behind her. Vitus found some inner reserve of strength and dashed forward with considerable speed after the assassin.

As all three of them ran out of the bedchambers, Vitus dived on top of the assassin, mere moments before he could attack Titia. He brought his dagger down on the assassin's back, but the killer brought his arm back behind him and blocked Vitus' arm at the wrist and pushed the young Legatus off of him. Titia ran out of foyer, screaming for help.

Vitus noticed that they were now in the triclinium, where he was just dining pleasantly nearly fifteen minutes ago. The first assassin got to his feet and circled him menacingly. The second assassin with his bleeding arm came running out into the triclinium and rejoined his partner.

Vitus drew his dagger and held it out in front of him, taking a deep defensive stance. Two masked men stared down the young Roman, their dual blades in hand and ready to end his life. _They possess armor and two swords each… while I just have a simple tunic and a dagger,_ he thought, _what I wouldn't give to have at least a longer weapon, a shield and some armor! At least we're in an open area and I'm not weighed down by armor and weapons, at least I could probably dodge one of these men if they fought me one-on-one, but they shall come at me at the same time with furious assault… I am going to die…_ The three of them were locked together in their own world seeing who would be the first to make a move.

And it turned out to be neither. Screams followed down the atrium along with the clattering of metal. The three of them diverted their attention to the crashing sound to find a third masked man being flung into the air and rolling on the tile. The man who threw the third assassin was Proculus, wearing nothing but his subligaculum undergarment, seething in anger and bleeding from a slash on his chest and his arm; he charged forward at the thrown assassin, jumping on his back and landing heavy blows to the back of his head. Behind him some distance away was a terrified Appia and her body slave shielding her.

"Proculus!" Vitus yelled in concern.

Titia came running back into the atrium; five household guards were behind her with furious yells and their weapons drawn. She pointed towards the assassins saying with anger, "There they are! Aid Vitus, now!"

The guards were armed with shields and charged with shouts against the assassins. Three of them went to attack the two men near Vitus, the other two went to aid Proculus. As they engaged with one another, Vitus fell back to his shaking wife. She hugged him tightly and quickly examined him in the low light, "Vitus, are you alright?"

"I am!" He looked at her neck, blood had dripped down to her breast. "Your throat…"

"I'm fine! It stings, but I'm fine. Oh Vitus, what do we do?!"

The grunts of fighting and the clanging of steel echoed in the triclinium. "Titia, listen to me, make haste to the bedchambers, fetch me my sword. Once you do, get Appia and hide. Quickly, go!"

She nodded and ran to their chambers. A man screamed in agony. Two of the guards fell within the moment, the two assassins blocked with one blade in their hand and stabbed or slashed with the second blade. By now, the entire palace was alive. Slaves and servants came out of the dark recesses and watched in stupefied horror at the violence that was occurring in the dining hall. Many yelled in gasped, others ran for help; but none of them intervened.

Titia came running from her room and shouted to her husband, "Vitus!" She tossed him his sword that was still in its sheathe. The sword flew in the air and Vitus caught it and drew the blade. He felt the notches in the leather handle, and felt the will of his mentor. He felt the spirit of a Prince. Unknown to Vitus, a small grin emerged on his face, he now had a proper weapon to fight with.

One of the assassins charged straight for him and attacked with both swords at once. Fortunate for Vitus, the time fighting barbarians had given him vital experience. It was always difficult fighting an enemy that wielded two weapons; even more so when you had no shield to hide behind. But Vitus learned that as long as you are quick on your feet and if you moved to the outside of their guard, you could best dual-wielders.

The assassin attacked, and Vitus deflected the first sword with his own, and then dodged the second sword. If he just stood in front of them and blocked one sword, then the other would quickly kill him. He had to keep moving, keep sidestepping and do half-spins. _I need to keep moving! Come on, Vitus! Sidesteps and half-spins. I cannot allow him to get me to stop. What I wouldn't give for a shield or another sword in my hand._

The first assassin kicked Vitus hard in his chest, sending him tumbling backwards over the couch and landing on the hard marble floor. The second assassin ran to the couch and leapt off of it and brought his swords over his head while in the air to cleave the young man. But the nimble Vitus rolled to his right, dodging the twin blades as they clanged against the tile. As he came out of his roll, Vitus swung his sword and slashed out the back of the second assassin's knee. The masked man shouted in pain as he clutched his wounded leg. The first assassin rushed to his aid and leapt on the couch as well. Yet Vitus saw him coming and with all his strength, he kicked the couch at the edge and sent a jolt that unbalanced the assassin; sending him to fall backwards off the furniture.

Vitus drove his eagle-pommeled dagger straight through the eye-slit of the assassin's mask. The assassin spasmed quickly, but then ceased moving and blood seeped around the slit.

The last of the three guardsmen engaged the first assassin and locked swords with him, then he brutally snapped the masked man's knee by kicking it hard. The crippled cutthroat fell to his bad knee with a shrill cry, allowing the guardsman to plunge his sword deep through the masked man's clavicle and into his heart.

By Proclus, one guard was killed by the assassin, and the other guardsman clashed with killer. Their swords clanged loudly in swift motions until the guardsman did a quick feint to the right and drove his sword through the assassin. The assassin unleashed a horrid wail and recoiled as the sword sunk deeper into his chest, then collapsed dead to the hard floor.

That guardsman broke out a grin of victory as he panted. In mid-pant, a tip of a steel blade entered the back of his neck and came out his throat. Proculus recoiled in shock. The guard gagged and fell as the blade was retracted behind him. Another man in black with a mask emerged from the shadows and was standing tall. _A fourth one? How many of them are there?!_

Proculus seized a stool and threw it wildly at the assassin, which knocked his sword away. The fourth masked man drew a knife from his thigh and ran towards the elder brother. He dipped low below Proculus' guard and lunged his arm forth. Proculus' cried out, Appia screamed. The assassin twisted the knife deeper into Proculus' stomach, the Julius winced in agony.

Vitus' guard that slayed his assassin was the last guardsmen standing. He yelled as he charged, and the fourth masked man drew his dagger from Proculus' stomach and attacked the guardsmen. Proculus clutched his wounded stomach and fell backwards against the wall, his teary-eyed wife by his side.

And Vitus witnessed every moment, an inferno exploding inside of him. A demonic screech exited his lungs, lunging forward to kill that masked bastard. Fury blinded his judgement. He swung wildly—attempting to take the man's head clean off. The assassin caught his arms and scooted in close to Vitus' body, and then hip-tossed him several feet into the air—slamming the young Legate down hard on the floor and losing his sword.

The last guardsman kicked the fourth assassin into a stone column and brought his sword down on top of him. Yet the assassin side-stepped out of the way, and grasping the back of the guardsman's hair, brutally slammed the soldier's face into the thick column several times, drawing blood at the skull and the nose. As the last guardsman fell on his back, the assassin raised his boot high and fatally stomped on the windpipe of the guard.

Vitus groggily got back to his feet and tackled the assassin to the floor, both men wrestling viciously for control. The assassin elbowed Vitus sharply over his eye, his armored arm sliced open the flesh over his eyebrow and drew blood; knocking the young man over. With brutal headbutts, the assassin slammed his metal face mask into Vitus' face. The murderer's left hand clutched Vitus' throat, the right hand raised in the air with the dagger aimed downward.

The assassin turned his head at a distinctive feminine cry that came at him from behind, Vitus heard the shrill cry as well, it reminded him of a Germanic woman assaulting his soldiers. From behind the assassin and Vitus was Titia, running with crazed eyes and wielding Vitus' own gladius over the side of her head—screeching like a barbarian shield-maiden. She swung the sword with all her strength and the blade cleaved the assassin's throat nearly in half. Blood coursed from his throat and some splattered on Vitus' body and Titia's feet. He dropped his weapon and clutched his gargling throat as he fell to the floor, writhing on the ground with his final death throes.

Titia was breathing hard, the blood-coated sword shaking in her hands. Her eyes fixated on the thrashing man. Then he stopped thrashing and his gurgling dissipated. Titia's breath halted in her chest.

His face was bloodied and bruised, but Vitus rose to his feet, "Titia…"

She could not look away from the bleeding corpse.

"Titia!"

Her jaw was shaking. She dropped the sword.

"Titia, look at me!" He begged his wife. "Titia, come and look at me!" He grabbed her cheeks and twisted her head to meet his eyes. They were wide yet hollow. He wondered if that was the look _he_ had when he slit the throat of the Gallic chieftain years ago—the very first man he killed.

"Look at me, Titia! Look at me, please look at me."

Her eyes finally centered on him, "Vi-Vitus…"

"That's right, I'm here… it's over… I think it's over…" He hugged her, but she couldn't hug him.

The slaves had fetched more guards, they entered but were lost in astonishment with the nine bleeding corpses that littered the dining area.

"Bloody Mars…" one of the guards said in disbelief, "Legatus, what has happened…"

"How many men are in this palace?"

"Close to thirty, Legatus. Well, I know not how many now with those who were slain—"

"Get all of them, now! Search this palace thoroughly! Make sure no assassins are hiding in wait! Send a man to the Urban Prefect, tell him what has transpired and lock this city down! Place the entire settlement on full alert! Do you hear me?! Lock this city **down**! Get Ligadis! Find my Thracians and bring them here, now! Quickly!"

"Understood, Legatus!"

"Fetch the medicus! Quickly!" Appia screamed at the guardsmen.

"At once!"

Vitus darted to his bleeding brother, "Proculus?"

"He came in the shadows, brother…" Proculus winced in pain. "That masked man came in our chambers from the… sh-shadows!"

"I know, they did the same to us as well." Vitus spun to a guard, "Where is Herennius?! If he sleeps then awake him, quickly!"

"Understood!"

Appia cradled Proculus' head into her lap, her tears patted his forehead. He was groaning loudly through his clenched teeth, "Oh Gods! Gods no—"

"Legatus!" a guard called out.

"What is it?!"

"H-Herennius Julius…"

"Yes, what about—" Vitus understood instantly. He looked to his wife and sister-in-law, "Stay with Proculus." And he sprung up and followed the guardsman.

Into his bedchambers, he was greeted by the wailing of loyal slaves. Vitus pushed them aside and gazed over the form of Herennius Julius, blood had dyed his bed. It leaked copiously from a gruesome slash from his throat—long from ear-to-ear. His eyes were bulged and his covers were sprung out messily—he had struggled in surprise when the assassin slit his throat. _The fourth assassin, that's where he came from…oh Herennius… how could they…_

The howling of Proculus brought him back to the current dangers. He spun back around and ran towards him. Proculus whimpered in anguish, "Wh-Wh-What of Herennius?"

It was painful to say, "He's… They killed him, they killed in his bed."

"Noooooo…" Appia cried more. Proculus was shivering with widened eyes.

A guard came by with a white towel and placed it over the wound, yet it had quickly dyed red and was discarded for a fresh one. "He is losing blood," a guardsman said.

"I know! Where is that medicus?!"

"He went home for the evening, Legatus. Men were sent to fetch him. But, I do not believe he may make it in time."

Appia's voice cracked, a tear draped down her cheek, "What? No! No!"

Proculus was squirming harder. "Did I hear what I think I just heard?"

"No, brother, you did not hear that. Stay strong…" his mind was racing. "Fuck, what to do… Shit, no choice, we need to sear the flesh with fire!"

Appia clutched his arm, "What?! But Vitus—"

"We have to stop the bleeding, Appia. Guards, find a poker and sit it in fire, now!"

One man was quick about it and found an even-ended poker and rested it just above the brazier, make sure the metal did not touch the coals. Vitus had seen the field medicus do this a hundred times during his campaigns. He had to aid them occasionally when his centurions were wounded.

He took the last clean towel and placed it in his brother's mouth. "Proculus, brother, please bite down. Good… now, this… this will hurt more than you could imagine but I have to do this to save your life. Do you understand?"

Proculus nodded surely, yet fear was in his eyes.

The crying Appia clutched her husband's head and closed her eyes. Three guardsmen held Proculus down securely. Titia's hands covered her mouth. Vitus' hands were steady, he said a quick prayer in his head, then placed the poker inside the wound. He swore his brother's screams were loud enough to shatter the moon above.

* * *

They were all sorely tired, no one slept last night. The entire Palace had been searched by the Prefect of Genoa, who also placed the city under lockdown. The Town Watch scoured the entire city, but the only masked killers that could be found were the four dead ones in the Palace. The medicus had come an hour after Proculus' cauterization. He examined the procedure and determined that though it was hastily done, it was adequate enough that it would prolong Proculus' life. Yet he still needed consistent medical treatment. Proculus was conscious enough to demand treat at the capital of Arretium, where the best physicians of the Julii were stationed. The medicus told him he should stay in Genoa, but Appia interjected claiming better security for them if they were in the Julii capital. Vitus had agreed and that was that.

They were on the road from morning to afternoon, the familiar landmarks of the terrain revealing their closing proximity to Arretium. Proculus and his family were being carried in a closed litter, with the medicus of Genoa inside and treating the wounded man. Proculus had been falling in and out of consciousness, weaker than Vitus had ever seen him. Appia never left his side, their son Lucius was crying softly—he repeatedly asked his mother why the evil men had attacked his father. Her only response was that they were just evil.

Vitus was riding on his stallion, Romulus, with Titia seated behind him; her arms wrapped around his waist for security. He grasped her hand delicately and she rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes still staring off into the distance. Titia was silent the whole night. When asked questions of her wellbeing, she could only nod or shake her head, not even a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Titia, are you… Can you break words now?"

"Yes… I am fine, Vitus. I am…"

 _You don't sound like it._ "I… good, it lifts the heart to hear you speak."

"Yes…"

"I uh, never did properly extend my gratitude for saving my life."

"Of course I would… you were… of course I would…"

Silence grew in between them.

"It's a queer feeling, taking a man's life. Even if they deserve it… you never truly—"

"I am fine, Vitus… I j-just—it needs to be worked out within my mind. I am sure you understand…"

"Oh… uh… sure. Yes, I do. More than… um, anyone. But, if you— well, if you need to speak about it… My ears would gladly receive your words."

She nuzzled her head against the back of his shoulder and sighed emptily, "Gratitude, Vitus. I shall remember that..."

He rubbed his scarred hands on her soft hands gently.

His Thracian bodyguards were trotting around him in a defensive circle. Upon learning of the attack, Ligadis was so ashamed that he offered his resignation as the Captain of the Guard. But Vitus refused, for it was he that told Ligadis and his men to rest in separate quarters within the Palace. That thought stabbed Vitus repeatedly, this outcome was most likely his fault.

Those masks that the assassins wore, they were the identical make of Murio's. Did they track him down from Massilia and decided to kill him and his family for getting closer to the truth about Murio? If he had instead went directly to Rome, maybe they would have targeted just him instead of his family? If he had his Thracians stationed in the dining area, would Herennius and his valiant guards still be alive? Would Proculus have been uninjured? The longer he thought of it, the angrier he grew. They attacked him and his family, and murdered a Julii. The images poured into his mind: _Herennius' slashed throat, Appia's and Lucius' tears, Titia's bleeding throat, and Proculus' flowing wound…_ He gripped the reins of his horse tightly. The Arcani—those bastards—they were going to pay! He was going to find whatever hellhole they crawled out from and call down the might of the Twenty-Eighth Legion upon them!

Upon taking the next incline, the Julii convoy had finally arrived at the capital. At the gates of Arretium, he noticed that the gatemen were not of the Town Watch but that of the Twenty-Eighth Legion. He noticed two of them were men from the Fourth Cohort, Legionaries Ulbo and Gasinus.

"Legatus!" said Ulbo, snapping to attention.

Gasinus looked relieved, "Bless Mars you have returned, Legatus."

"Ulbo? Gasinus? What are you two doing stationed at the gate? Where is the Town Watch?"

"State of Emergency, Legatus. The Patriarch has ordered the entire legion to mobilize within the city."

" 'State of Emergency'? What has happened?!"

Both men shrugged. "We do not know, Legatus. We were not told anything. We were commanded to guard the northern gate and watch for 'unsavory' characters."

 _Unsavory… It cannot be…_ "As you were, men. I shall find out what has occurred."

The gates creaked open. The first thing that gripped him was the sight of red capes moving everywhere within the settlement. But these were no militia. The entire Twenty-Eighth Legion was indeed mobilized within the city. They were patrolling the streets eight-men at a time, questionings civilians, barging into homes against the protest of bewildered homeowners, and even checking through the wares of merchants—opening sacks of grain and emptying chests of gold in search of contraband. Commerce had frozen completely within the Julii capital. If one wouldn't know it, they would suspect the Twenty-Eighth were rapacious invaders who were looting this city like it was conquered.

Vitus had to find an officer to explain this utter chaos. He came across Centurion Titus Ennius of the Second Cohort, First Century, interrogating a group of ten civilians with his legionaries glaring menacingly at them.

"Centurion Ennius!" Vitus called down to him.

Ennius and his men quickly pivoted and saluted proudly, "Legatus Germanicus!"

"What is the meaning of this? Where is _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus?"

"Orders, Legatus. _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus is in the Thracian quarter of the city, I can send a courier for him if it pleases you?"

"No, not necessary. What orders? From whom?"

"From the office of the Patriarch, Legatus. We were ordered to hunting for anyone in the possessions of masks of black or if anyone spotted men draped in black last night. Sir!"

 _Dear Gods no…_ "Uh, continue your activity, Centurion!" he commanded with a salute. The soldier saluted back.

Titia looked at him with a grave expression, "Vitus…"

"I know… we need to get back to the Palace, immediately!'

* * *

The doors to the palace opened to pandemonium. Several militiamen of the Town Watch were combing the entire palace in search of something, slaves were frantically running everywhere—several of them were shedding tears, there were two still figures within the atrium that were draped over with white bedsheets with crimson liquid dyeing the fabric.

"What is this madness?" Vitus said aloud.

The first recognizable face he saw was that of his mother's, Octavia Julius. She looked older on the account that she did not apply her morning makeup. Her face contained patches of wrinkles of worry and her hair was loose and unkempt. She gasped loudly at the sight of her youngest boy and flung herself at him in a deep hug. "Vitus! Oh you are alive and well! Titia, you are safe as well." she cried out.

"Mother, of course we are alive. Why do you—never mind that! Mother, send someone to fetch the medicus!"

"For what purpose do you need that? Sit, I wish to speak to you abou—"

"No time, fetch the medicus!"

"What has happened?"

"Quickly! Fetch the medicus!" Titia said.

The doors opened wide again and the Thracian bodyguards pulled the wounded Proculus in on a stretcher, with his wife and child by his side. His mother wailed in horror.

"Proculus!" she said, running to him.

"Just a scratch, Mother. You should… should have laid eyes on the assailant," he chuckled gutturally, "Got him good, I did… I did get him g-g-good…"

They placed the stretcher in the middle of the floor per the Genoa medicus' orders. Several slaves began crowding around him in worry. Others darted off to find the physicians. Octavia held her eldest child's hand, "What happened?!"

"Assassins, four of them in black masks," Vitus said, "They attacked us at Genoa. They killed several of the guardsmen and… they killed Herennius."

The mother's bottom lip was trembling as she looked at him, "No, not Herennius, not him as well…"

Titia blinked confusingly, "Wait, 'him as well'…"

A gruff voice came behind the family, "Indeed, it was not just you."

The speaker was dressed in his old armor of the Twenty-Eighth Legion, yet carried a general's helmet by his side. He was aging long in years, a good portion of his hair was greying and he wore the scars of war on his body. He was of plebian blood before he was formally adopted by Lucius Julius Magnus, and he was the legendary general's trusted _Primus Pilus_ for many years. Caeso Julius Cossutius Major, Governor of the luxurious island of Sardinia, stood grimly before the brothers.

"Cossutius? What are you doing here?" Vitus asked.

"I sailed from Sardinia whilst the moon was still high in the sky. I just entered the city shy of an hour ago." Cossutius kneeled in front of Proculus and clasped his hand in greeting, "Proculus, that wound…"

"It hurts, but I can manage," he said through his teeth.

"Be quick about the _medicus!_ " Cossutius ordered the servants.

Proculus exhaled in discomfort, "It shall take more than this to kill me… But Cossutius, you're wearing your armor, what happened to you?"

He stood to his feet with a furrowed brow, "Same thing that occurred to you brothers. My family and I were set upon by knifemen in black masks and black hoods."

"You as well…?" Vitus asked.

"That be the truth of it. Two men entered our home in the dead of night and nearly killed us, but my son, Caeso, killed one and wounded the other, yet he escaped. That valiant son of mine… I came to report such to Decius, and yet… I found this rabble inside."

Vitus looked around the hectic palace and muttered, "What has happened here?"

Octavia spoke this time, "The same that had occurred to you, my sons. I was fast asleep in my chambers until the shouting and rushing of the guards woke me. By the time I stirred out of my bed, it was all over. These masked men had entered the Palace last night, they attacked your Uncle Decius, he was wounded but he had escaped his assailant. His guards had killed the assassin. Two of them died. They are the ones who are draped with sheets over there."

The brothers looked at one another, seemingly reading each other's mind. _Here as well? Genoa, Sardinia, now the heart of the Julii, Arretium? What was going on?_

"His wounds?" Proculus asked, his voice was so fragile.

"Were not fatal and he shall live."

"Thank Venus," Proculus exhaled.

"But…"

The brothers and their wives hung on to that horrible word. A tear cascaded down Octavia's cheek, "But… there were two more assassins and… Statius was found dead in his bedchambers as the killers leapt from the balcony and rode out into the night…" her voice cracked and she broke into soft sobs.

The face of his smiling cousin flashed in his mind. Vitus' voice was near a whisper, "No…" Appia covered her mouth. Proculus was shaking. Titia stared on, her mouth hanging low.

"Where is our uncle?"

Cossutius told him, "He grieves alone, Vitus. He asked for plaster, we believe he intends to construct his son's death mask. He requests that he not be bothered, but—"

"But nothing," Vitus said. "Genoa, Sardinia, and Arretium? He needs to know what is happening!"

"We know, we tried, Vitus. Yet we knocked and called for him, wails were the only response. We even tried to open it, but he… barred the doors from the inside. He truly wants to be alone."

"Oh Gods…"

"That is not the worst of it…" Cossutius added.

"What?" Proculus' voice was rising in anger, "What?! How the fuck is that not the worst of it, Cossutius?!" A fit of coughing struck him.

The grizzled veteran snapped his fingers, a slave handed him a dozen letters. Cossutius looked at the letters, then at the brothers. He took a gulp before reading them.

Vitus asked, "Cossutius, what are—"

"Bear with me on this," he interjected solemnly. "This one is from Prefect Fabriciuis from the settlement of Patavium, addressed to Patriarch Decius: 'Oh Great Patriarch, it is with heavy regret that this letter is written. A horrible crime has occurred in this city. Your kin, Marcus Julius, Governor of Patavium, was found murdered in his bedchambers. His throat was slashed and his sheets dyed with blood. The only man present in his chambers was his body slave, yet he was found murdered; his throat slashed as well. No one had spotted the killer enter or exit, the entire settlement is on lockdown. We are torturing the slaves to see if they hold any knowledge. It is too painful to believe the Gods would take a noble man like Marcus Julius from us.' And the letter goes on…"

Cossutius put that letter away and unraveled another. "This is from Ariminum. From young Sextus Julius, nephew of governor Numerius. Addressed to Patriarch Decius: 'Most respectable Decius, horror has befallen us. My uncle is dead. Slain at the hands of villains in black masks. Upon late in the night, my Uncle and I were returning to the palace where two of them attacked us. Uncle Numerius used his military training and fended them off, to save my life. He told me to run and hide, and I did. I hid myself and was retrieved by one of his guards five minutes later. I returned to the scene of the ambush. Four bodies were there; two guards, one of the masked men, and my uncle. My uncle was strong enough to kill one of his attackers, yet his wounds were too severe and he succumbed to them. The other assassin had fled like a coward. I request you send a contingent of men to protect the rest of my family and to scour this settlement clean of these vile murderers. I humbly beseech your aid.' "

Cossutius continued, "This one just came in from Narbo, the man sailed all night until he reached Italia. This arrived ten minutes before you did. From Helena, daughter of Helenius Julius."

 _Helena, a sweet girl who loved to ride and enjoy the warm wind in her hair, she was so cheery last I remember. We played a lot as children, Proculus even teased that we would be married one day. For her to write…_

Cossutius cleared his throat, " 'I ask for sanctuary, Patriarch! Sanctuary and vengeance! Demonic men in black stole into the night and attacked us in our own home! What merciless villains would do so? Three or four of them were there. They butchered my father so bloodily that his life essence ran like a river! My youngest brother, Gaius, was slain as well. Our sweet Gaius. My other brother, Helenius managed to escape, yet he clings to life by a thread, his wounds so severe! These masked murderers spilled so much blood and slayed seven of our guard! Sanctuary I ask you, sanctuary and vengeance for our kin!' "

He placed the papers down with a heavy sigh, looking up to the silent Julii with haggard eyes. "There have been twelve couriers from about twelve Julii-controlled settlements. Nine of them bearing words of witnessing masked attackers, and five of the twelve letters explaining a death of a Julius. The rest were wounded in the attacks. All victims were men of the Julii. All of this happened, just last night before the Ides ended. And we are expecting more to arrive..."

Vitus could not recall feeling this cold before. The ground felt like it was removed up from under him. The only sound that was audible was Appia's frightened whimpering behind him. He remembered the contours of those black masks. He remembered how ruthless they were, how they could have slaughtered them as they slept in those beds. _Those Arcani_ … His fist clenched tightly at the memory of those black masks. _They slaughtered so many of my kin… you Arcani…_ Flaming anger engulfed his heart, then was snuffed out by freezing fear, then both feelings raged like fighting lions, battling for possession of his soul. So many emotions were flowing inside of him that he near threatened to burst.

Smiling Statius, Herennius, Helenius, Gaius, Numerius, and no telling how many more…. Men of his own proud blood. His family… Those damn black masks of the Arcani glowed in his mind's eye. This was a nightmare. It had to be. Nothing made sense. Yet he subconsciously dug his nails into his arm so hard that he left marks. This was indeed a nightmare, but one in which he could not wake.


	8. Ramifications

**Note from Kanuro5:** It feels good to update again! I have been so busy with teaching for the past four months I really don't have time to write. So updates will be slow but hopefully they wont be months apart... hopefully. Anyway, today is Jan 1 of 2019, and I want to wish every who reads this a Happy New Year! Enjoy!

* * *

 **VIII**

 **Ramifications**

 **Arretium**

"Uncle! Uncle Decius! It is I, Vitus. Proculus and I have returned from Genua, please open the door, I need to break words of import with you."

The young man waited for half a minute before pressing his ears against the heavy door. Faint sounds of crying could be heard from the other side.

"Uncle, please. Open up! Proculus and I were attacked by the same ones who robbed Statius of life, they wounded Proculus but he is alive, he is here in the city. Please open up!"

The only response was the continued weeping from inside.

Vitus slammed the edge of his fists against the door repeatedly, "Damn it, Uncle! Open up! Please, we need you!"

A slave approached him with a shake of the head, "Apologies, Germanicus, but _Dominus_ has been inconsolable since the passing of his noble son. He has not stopped weeping and he would not see anyone."

Vitus closed his eyes and rested his head on the door. These sobs were not from the Patriarch of the Julii, but that of a broken man who lost his only son. It must've been the most devastating daggers to bury your child that you brought into this world, that you saw as a crying babe and a smiling toddler. Oh, how he would want to comfort him, but now…

"Germanicus?" the slave asked tenderly.

"I know. He grieves, I understand." He turned to the slave, "But he needs to be out here, our territory is in chaos. We need leadership."

Vitus returned with the slave to the atrium, greeted by the sight of worried and concerned eyes. His mother had her hands clasped in frightened hope, Ligadis and Cossutius looked at him with stoic expressions, Titia's eyes were still hollow but they now focused on him, and about a dozen servants and slaves were murmuring amongst one another but stopped as they noticed Vitus. The _medicus_ had taken the wounded Proculus away to treat him properly, Appia and Lucius went along with him.

Vitus' mother approached with a fragile voice, "Did he…?"

"No, he did not."

Cossutius sighed, "We've all been at that door beseeching him to open up. And if not him, then we ask Cardea and Forculus to open up the doors; yet the Gods do not answer."

Vitus exhaled, "Right when we need them most… we cannot just sit on our hands and do nothing."

"What do you plan to do?" Ligadis inquired.

 _What should I do? What would Decius do? What would Father do at this moment?_ His eyes wandered to the letters from the other settlements on the desk. He picked them up and skimmed through all of them. These cries of help… none of his kin saw this coming. Seeing two or more masked assassins in the dead of night to murder you. He thought back to Genua. _'Move, and she dies. Yell, and she dies.'_ How _did_ four of them get into the palace? How did **two** of them enter his and Titia's bedchambers? Four assassins to kill three Julii? Must be for strength in numbers in case one failed and— _That's it!_

He moved to the slaves and servants present. "Which one of you sends letters out for the Patriarch?"

A middle-age servant stepped forth with a raised hand, "I wrote for the Patriarch."

"Okay, I want you to write as many letters as you can and have them sent out to all Julii settlements. Request all surviving members of the Julii clan to depart immediately for Arretium. All family must be accounted for, and we hold safety in numbers in case they try to attack us again."

"Vitus, you would bring all of the Julii here?" his mother asked with enlarged eyes.

"I would, mother. And it will be mandatory."

"But what about their cities? Who shall govern them? The Julii should be governors of—"

"A settlement can run without a Julius, we have our prefects and local magistrates to keep order in the cities."

Decius' servant spoke up, "I do not seek to argue but you cannot do this. You are neither Patriarch nor the Heir."

"I know, and at this moment I do not care. Do it."

"This is not how it's done. You have not even received orders, Legatus"

"Who is left to give orders?"

"B-But it cannot be mandatory or authorized without the Patriarch's seal, and Patriarch Decius holds the seal in his chambers."

Vitus slammed his fist on the desk suddenly. The slammed echoed throughout the atrium. "The Julii territory is in chaos! The Heir is dead, the Patriarch is inconsolable, my brother is wounded, and we hold no clue to how many Julii are dead, wounded, or missing!" His breath held in his chest, yet he somehow found a way to speak. "I… at this moment… I am temporarily taking command of the Julii clan."

Everyone was silent.

"Until the Patriarch recovers from his mourning…" Vitus continued, "Until we have an account of what is happening and who has survived this… purge… I shall take Decius' place as _paterfamilias_. Only as an impermanent role. Do you desire to debate about this?"

None of the retainers, servants, or slaves said a word. Cossutius gave Vitus a sure nod, "I stand witness and give my voice to Vitus Julius as Acting Patriarch of the Julii."

"Gratitude, Cossutius." Vitus turned to the servant, "Now, do find me a seal of importance and get to writing."

The servant took off faster than a rabbit with a wolf on its tail.

Vitus rubbed his hand on his brow and exhaled. He glanced at the servants looking on him nervously, "Tell me, any news from are other provinces?"

"None, Legatus—apologies, Patriarch."

"It's fine, it's only a temporary title, you may still address me as 'Legatus' or 'Germanicus', either or." Vitus rubbed his jaw in frustration. "Damn it. Then what about Hispania? Any news from the peninsula? What of Quintus Sertorius?"

"We have not received word, Legatus. But most likely, given how everyone else was attacked; we probably will receive letters from the couriers tomorrow when they arrive."

He groaned, "I need to know how many men we have, and how many able generals are still alive. I pray that Sertorius is alive and well… we're going to need his knowledge, experience, and men." Vitus sighed before asking, "Have we received any news from Rome? From any of our people in the Julii quarter."

"None, Legatus."

"If we haven't received word yet from Hispania which is a thousand miles away, then we should have at least received news immediately from the cities closer to Arretium, so where is the news from Rome?"

His mother chimed in, "Perhaps no one was attacked in Rome. Rome is not Julii territory, but that of the Senate. Every city that was attacked was completely controlled by the Julii."

"Or perhaps the assassins killed all of our people in Rome," Cossutius countered. "If they had the care to attack everyone everywhere, then it stands to reason they could attack our people in the heart of Senate territory."

So much trouble had occurred, how could he fix this? Where would he begin? Who would— His eyes went wide in realization. He pointed to his bodyguard, "Ligadis, assemble twenty men from my Guard, and prepare them for immediate departure. Bring Ardunas and four of his men along."

"What?!" Cossutius exclaimed.

Vitus' mother was equally surprised. "You're leaving? You just arrived! You declared yourself Acting Patriarch, your place is here in Arretium!"

Ligadis bowed and ran off. Vitus combed his hair with his fingers, "I know, Mother. But Uncle Decius told me that a Patriarch goes where he must for the good of his family."

"That _good_ is in this settlement. All messages shall come here to you, you must remain and govern our territories."

"No, I have to go to Rome."

"Rome?! What's in Rome?"

"I need to speak to Sulla, Mother. Whatever is occurring, he may be of use to us. _And he needs to know of this fucking Arcani attack…_ And I could investigate what happened to our men in Rome. Cossutius, you are to remain here in Arretium as temporary governor until I return. Your first task is to mobilize the Twenty-Eighth and have them ready to depart at a moment's notice."

"We're going to war?" he asked. Vitus could feel the frightened eyes of the servants on him. What would his father say and do at a moment like this? What was expected of a Julius to say?

"These masked assailants struck against the Julii. **They** brought the war."

That declaration made many of the onlookers talk amongst themselves. Cossutius nodded firmly, he seemed pleased with the notion. "I understand, Vitus."

"You're a soldier, you know what is needed on campaigns. I shall be absent from Arretium for a few days. Ensure that the Legion is well-stocked and provisioned, that all soldiers on leave return to duty."

Cossutius gave him a proud salute, "I shall."

His mother spoke again, "Vitus, a courier could suffice to the Dictator, you must—"

"Mother, I must do this. He needs to hear the tales from my lips, and he shall listen to me. Please… inform Appia and Proculus that I leave immediately, and that I pray for his recovery."

"Vitus—"

He started walking away. He knew his mother would try to stop him, he understood why and didn't blame her. But he kept moving so that she wouldn't get a chance. The onlookers in the Palace parted out of his way, their eyes gawking in a mix of respect and fear of this "Acting Patriarch." Vitus didn't really care for the title, what did he know about governance? This should have been Uncle Decius, he was groomed for responding in tragedy, he would have known what to do and if Vitus' decisions were prudent or foolhardy. If only Decius could have been consoled, if only the Arcani didn't attack. If only.

A small but firm hand grasped his shoulder and spun him around. Titia held eyes that carried mixture of defiance and concern.

"Vitus… please do not go…" she requested.

"Titia… I know—"

"No, you don't! We hold no understanding what is going on. Your brother is wounded, and your cousin is dead! And every Julii settlement has been attacked! What if more of those masked men are waiting for you in Rome, to finish off what they failed to do?"

 _That_ _ **is**_ _a possibility…_ "Fear not, Titia, then they'll meet my steel, quick as that." He forced a smirk of reassurance, though Titia didn't believe the smile.

"But… you can't—"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I must. More of those assassins are out there, and I can't just sit here and do nothing. I'm not a farmer who waits for the harvest, I am a soldier who meets the enemy head-on."

"But you don't know what kind of enemy they are, do you?"

 _I have a good idea, Titia._ "Listen, you have a duty here, look after my mother, Appia, Lucius, and Proculus. Look out for them. I shall not tarry long in Rome, I shall return shortly, you have my word. Do you understand?"

"I… yes, just please be careful."

He pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead, she was trembling ever so softly. "I shall return, hale and hearty, I promise," he said gently.

* * *

 **Rome**

As soon as he passed the gates of the Servian Wall, "Vitus" had been buried and "Germanicus" was resurrected. He walked in front of his men, all heavily armed and wearing faces of austerity. The concerned mass of plebeians parted out of the way of the Julii—like that of curtains being parted in a play. Even several members of the Town Watch backed away with uncertainty at the sight of this "Julii gang" of nearly thirty men. Murmurs rose up among them suggesting that Germanicus was there to massacre them all or overthrow Sulla. The young man wanted to scoff, overthrowing the Dictator was the last thing on his mind; especially with his paltry numbers. But he did hold a killing intent that he wanted to unleash on the criminals responsible.

Ardunas, his Gallic Commander of the Archer Auxilia, sneered in disgust at the sight of Rome. "What the— What happened to this city? It's a shithole!"

The Gaul wasn't wrong. The city was still as filthy as Vitus recalled, the plague was still running rampant. He figured as much, yet he hoped for the best. Alleyways still held scores of dead piled up, a good number of citizens were sitting against walls wailing softly in pain, and others were lying on the ground in unresponsive states as they coughed up a mix of phlegm and blood. Citizens walked by the dying and sick with cloths covering the lower-half of their faces. The expression on most of these Romans were joyless, dullard eyes hung in their sockets. A wrinkled woman in black passed by the young man with burning incense in her hand, chanting solemnly, "Spirits of misfortune, leave our city. You have had your fill, now preserve our lives." Graffiti covered the walls of several buildings with images of wailing men and women, a large but decrepit old man screaming in terror as bolts of lightning from Jupiter on high, struck the old men down below and the people who were surrounded by Roman walls. Text was etched next to the images reading, "Why do we suffer for Sulla?" Vitus couldn't believe Rome could have deteriorated any lower since his last visit, but all of this had proved him wrong.

Passing through the Grand Forum of the Roman Capital, Germanicus stopped; his eyes fell upon the foot of the Capitoline, more heads were on spikes above the market—more victims of Sulla's proscriptions. Before he would convene with Sulla, Vitus had to visit the Julii territory within the city. No news was delivered from Rome, and yet every Julii city was attacked; maybe the Arcani didn't attack here… or maybe they killed everyone associated with the Julii? Aside from the capital of Arretium, Rome was a vital foothold for the Julii to be based in; Vitus had to know if his people were secure.

A newsreader with a bombastic voice read from parchment in his hand, "Attention all citizens! His Most Excellent, Cornelius Sulla Felix, has offered a substantial reward of five hundred sesterces for any citizens with pertinent knowledge of the whereabouts of the black-masked assassins. Any citizen that fulfills their patriotic duty by killing and returning an assassin's body back to the State, shall receive a thousand sesterces. An assassin that is returned to the State alive, that citizen shall receive two thousand sesterces. So says His Most Excellent, Cornelius Sulla Felix, Dictator of the Republic!"

Vitus eyed the murmuring crowd that gathered around the newsreader. Some men unsheathed their knives and went searching throughout the alley. _So much for secrecy of the Arcani, Sulla must be furious… and I wonder how many more innocents shall be harmed for Sulla?_ But this did confirm Vitus' suspicions. How many men did the Arcani kill in this city the night of the Ides?

* * *

Past a few turns and a walk uphill, the Julii territory shined with red, crimson banners draped over buildings with a black laurel wreath fixed on the middle of it. Citizens wore crimson tunics with small emblems of the Julii etched onto the fabric. They waved and nodded at the sight of Germanicus, many of them gossiping with brightening smiles. Some children ran up to him to ask about his campaigns before their parents dragged them away with smiling apologetic faces. The young Julius admitted it was a rather nice being acknowledged as such.

His retinue came upon the municipal building of the Julii in the middle of the territory, where administrators and citizens with ambitions of elevating their lives and the fortune of the Julii met. Julii Guards were posted at the entrance but saluted proudly at the sight of Germanicus. Servants were called to welcome the Legatus and to show him inside. He asked the servants of the wellbeing of the four prominent members of the Julii he knew that stayed in Rome, but they gravely told him of one who barely survived and brought him to the man.

The man lied in the back room on a cot and was attended by several physicians _,_ the wounded Julius was shirtless and wrapped in bandages around his abdomen and his arm. Vitus recognized him as Tiberius Julius Pullius, formerly Tiberius Pullius. He was in his 30s and his face proudly wore the scars from battle, the greatest scar was on the left side of his face that took the place of his missing left ear. The man was an Ex-Quaestor and before that, he stood a Legionary Tribune and right-hand man of Lucius Julius the Mighty. Vitus' father was so impressed with his worthy tribune that he adopted Tiberius into the Julii family.

Germanicus took a seat near the cot and spoke softly, "Tiberius…"

His eyes twisted towards Vitus, a faint smile rose from his face. "Vitus?" He rose up on his cot and grimaced as he moved. "I—"

Vitus leaned down with cautious hands out, "Do not move too much. I came as quickly as I could."

"Of course you did," the wounded man said with a chuckle. "You are your father's son."

That brought a grin of pride on the young man's face, but it then disappeared as he asked the next question. "How did the men with black masks tried to kill you?"

Sparks of surprise flashed in his eyes, "How did you—"

Vitus leaned in deeper, "They came for us all. They attacked the Julii all across the Republic."

"No…"

Vitus sucked his teeth. "If only it was not so."

"How did they attack you then, Vitus?"

"We were in Genua, Proculus and I along with our wives. We stayed with Herennius for the night and then four masked men came to kill us. All four of them were killed, but they have slain Herennius in his sleep."

Tiberius inhaled through his nostrils. "How many more Julii died?"

"Too many… What happened with you?"

He grunted as he shifted his body into a more comfortable position, "I sent my wife and daughter to visit my wife's father in Ostia earlier in the morning. I had business with the spice merchants from Africa in the evening. Then at night they attacked from the shadows, two men with black masks. One of them had a dagger and drove it into my side but I fought back and the other hacked at my arm. I thought I would lose my life, but Fortuna took me for her pet. We were on the second floor and in the skirmish, I fell out of the window. Yet instead of landing on the earth, I fell onto an ox-cart. I was in pain from the fall, but I managed to flee. The guards saw my wounds and heard my tale—and since I am an Ex-Quaestor—they hurried back to my home in force. Yet they could not find the two assassins."

Vitus patted Tiberius' good arm amiably, "Amazing, your life saved by an ox-cart."

"I hold no shame in such a tale because I yet breathe. It seems I still have purpose in this world."

"Tiberius, who else was attacked from the Julii in Rome?"

"Three others, one of them an actual Julius, but all of them dead. Titus Lutatius was seeking to run for Quaestor, but I heard that he and his wife were found dead in the middle of the night in their home—their throats were slashed. Gaius Sergius—he was in the process of being adopted by Lucius Julius Libo, he was found later to have been thrown off a building, they said his skull cracked like an egg on the ground and was near unrecognizable. And then there was Julius Libo, three of his guards were killed in the attack and Libo's head was severed from his body… witnesses spotted about three of the assassins fleeing."

"Libo, Sergius, Lutatius… all three of them?"

"Yes. Vitus, what foul madness is befalling Rome?"

He rustled his own hair sluggishly, "If only I knew, Tiberius. I'm here to speak with Sulla to find out." Vitus stood to leave, "Take your rest, Tiberius. And… it lifts my heart that you survived this terror, Tiberius. I mean it. Do recover your strength. Also, I issued an edict for all Julii to return to Arretium to be accounted for after the attack. I would have you rest a few days before you venture to back to the capital."

"I shall. Vitus… do be careful, I fear that this isn't over yet."

"Tiberius, you know me, I take the utmost measures with care."

* * *

The sea of people divided as Germanicus marched towards the Senate House— _the Curia Hostilia_. Originally built for 300 senators, Sulla had the complex renovated to fit a larger assembly since he doubled the size of the Senate. A crowd had already gathered around the Curia with the Town Watch of Rome standing guard outside the structure and Lictors standing in a parallel column from the entrance down to the bottom steps of the Curia. Once he had left the Julii territory, the crowd quickly surmised that he was looking for Sulla and informed him that the Dictator had entered the Senate House for a session with other senators.

He and his men approached the steps of the Senate, and near passed the Town Watch until a lictor approached with his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sheathed sword, and with the other hand he shot it out in front of the Legate.

"Halt! State your business, soldier!"

Ligadis spoke for him. "You stand before Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion."

The lictor's eyes squinted suspiciously, "State your business, Legatus."

"I call for an audience with Sulla, I return with vital news of—"

"The Dictator desires not to be seen. Good day, Legatus."

"I insist that I speak to him. He had ordered me to—"

"The Dictator desires not to be seen. Good day, Legatus!"

 _I hold no time for this!_ "Where is Sulla? Where is he?!" He raised his voice at the building, "Sulla, it is I, Germanicus! I have returned, so let me in!"

"Stay your tongue, Legatus!"

"I demand to see him! I hold news of utter importance for his ears alone. Sulla! I know you are in there!"

A slave ran out from the Curia and rushed down the stairs, near out of breath, "Allow him entry, the Dictator permits it!"

The lictors bowed and moved aside. Vitus eyed the slave and hissed, "Take me to him."

It was quite odd being in the same building where he and his brother were once tried by the Senate and were nearly exiled. For surrendering to barbarians, Vitus and Proculus were brought here in front of the ex-Consul Caius Maxentius, to answer for their "crimes", only for the intervention of their Uncle Decius where the brothers acquitted. Now, the space where Senators convene to argue upon politics and elections was doubled in size.

On the floor was the Dictator himself, alone. He was resting in an elevated and elaborate stool that was more distinguished then that of a Consul's stool. A cup of Falernian was in his hand and his slave was steadying pouring more wine into it. He was examining a large detailed map of Italy, spread out on the floor of the Senate, expanded by slaves. Sulla's red eyes scoured over the map as if to find a hidden detail. The flesh on his face hung in sour irritation and his bloodshot eyes held large amounts of rage.

Yet upon seeing Vitus, Sulla's expression lightened. "Vitus! You yet live."

"I do, Sulla," he said, walking down the stairs, "Such statement cannot be shared with many of my kin."

"I've heard."

"You've heard?"

Sulla motioned for his slave to offer Vitus some wine. Vitus took the cup of Falernian and took a seat close to Sulla.

"I have men everywhere in the Italian peninsula, Vitus."

Vitus sipped his wine, his eyes not leaving Sulla's eye, "Do you now?" He looked around the empty Senate Floor, so quiet, it was a little disconcerting. "Where is everyone?"

Sulla took a large gulp before exhaling. "I dismissed the session an hour ago. Many senators of note were absent. It was… unsettling when the session was convened. After they left, I have been here alone to… think. And to drink. And to think." He studied the inside of his empty cup inquisitively, "So Vitus, what of Decius?"

"I thought you had men everywhere?"

The scowl Sulla gave him woke Vitus back to his senses. "Deep apologies, Sulla! I didn't mean—"

"Choose your next words with care, boy."

"Right! Well… he was wounded, but lives. Yet his heart may never recover."

"What do you mean?"

"The Arcani had killed his son and Heir, Statius."

"Oh… I offer condolences."

Vitus just gave a grunt. But Sulla's eyes had a glimpse of melancholy. He demanded a refill from his slave.

"I…" he continued, "I know the unfathomable depth over the loss of a son…"

"Oh… apologies, Sulla, I had… um, forgotten…"

An uncomfortable silence grew between them, both men returned to their drinks. His eyes were buzzing from fatigue. He hadn't a proper chance to rest in days, his mind was racing everywhere, and this wine certainly didn't help matters.

"What did you find in Massilia? What of Hilarus Murio's family?" Sulla finally asked.

"Dead. They had perished the night before my arrival. It was 'attributed' to natural causes since they were heavy in age. Both of them, within the same night."

Sulla's nose wrinkled and he growled softly. "Those bastards…"

"I know."

"Do tell me that you know more of Murio?"

"I spoke with the neighbors who knew Murio since he was born. They claimed upon his retirement, Murio was consumed with drink until he found a religious calling as a temple cleaner. I don't understand it, I gave all my veterans of the Samarobriva campaign land, but he never touched it apparently. Eventually, he told them he was leaving for Rome but was spotted in Athens."

"How long ago was that?"

"Years."

Sulla raised his face to the ceiling, "Fuck… Is that all you were able to accomplish? Cold trails and empty words? I thought you were better than that! Are you not a man?!"

 _More than you. I do not hide behind veiled threats._ "No excuse, Sulla."

Sulla stared at him with that detestable scowl. "Good. If you had dared uttered one, I might have taken your tongue." He took mighty gulps from his wine, then he suddenly threw it to the left of Vitus. "I sent you to find these assassins! To find them! Not their empty trails!" he suddenly screamed.

"You asked me to discover more about Murio! And I have done that!"

"Ha! Have you now? A monkey with no balls could have performed your job!"

Vitus was disappearing now, and Germanicus was taking his place with furious rage. "Then why didn't you use one?! Speak, and allow me to gauge such response, Sulla! Or better yet, how come you didn't go searching? You know of these masked bastards more than I! What am I even supposed to be looking for? Tell me! I found information upon Murio, and for my efforts, my wife and brother were damn near slain nights later!"

Sulla gave a sharp _tsk_ , "They came for your wife as well? So how did they come for you anyhow?"

Vitus began to calm down and explained his encounter with the Arcani on the night of the attack. Sulla had his slave fetch him more wine and a new cup to drink from.

"You and your family are indeed fortunate to have survived. And it was good of me for allowing your wife to accompany you, saved your life, she did."

"Indeed," his cup was empty, and he placed it on the floor, his eyes lost in the map, "But now blood taints her hands."

"She shall overcome it. Time is the great cleanser of blood."

"She was never meant to— For what purpose did this happen, Sulla? Why now? Why attack the Julii? Was it because I was investigating them that they sought to exterminate us?"

"Do you know what the plebeians are calling this massacre? They named it 'The Bloody Ides'. And who they find fault with? Not those black-hearted assassins—oh no… not them. They lie fault with me. Me! Their Dictator! They are cursing my name out there, Vitus. For my proscriptions, for this plague, for these assassins that murder the noble Roman families. They all take it as sure sign of my demise. That I-I-I committed a grave sacrilege against Olympus! Bah! What do they know? All the blood that I have spilled has been for the benefit of Rome. Mark me on that, Vitus! All that I have done, I have done for Rome! But how could they understand, Vitus? They act as if I order the Gods to curse the land and murder with shadowy figures. If I command someone to die, then it will **not** be from the shadows!"

Vitus wanted desperately to roll his eyes at the comment. How many men and women did Sulla possibly kill discreetly in the past to get to where he is now? How could he— wait… what did he just say?

"What do you mean, Sulla?"

"Huh?"

"You said about the 'noble Roman families.' You said, 'families', plural. What did you mean?"

"As I said. The assassins sought to murder entire noble families. Did you truly believe that you Julii were the only ones the Arcani attacked?" He shook his head gravely, "No. The night of the murders; men of the Julii, the Brutii, and Scipii were **all** attacked. From the soils of Italy, amongst the woods of Gallia, to the temples of Greece, and the sands of Africa; men of the Three Families were targeted."

Vitus blinked endlessly as his jaw hung low, "What?"

"Yes. Even the Brutii and Scipii were attacked by these men. The Patriarch of the Scipii, Quintus Scipio, was apparently killed by two of the Arcani in Africa. His son and heir, Gnaeus One-Eye, barely escaped with his life and still recuperates. The Brutii fared worse, Vitus. They lost both their Patriarch and Heir on that night of the Ides to the assassins. Every hour, I receive another courier with news upon another death of another noble family.

Vitus' heart was racing now, "Both of them as well?"

He reaffirmed sullenly. "Yes. It truly pains me to admit, but we grossly underestimated the Arcani. They coordinated a massive assassination attempt across the lands and managed to wound and kill a great many of patricians. In the same damn night, no less. Such planning, such timing, such patience; and yet it costed them. From these letters, I estimate that about fifty to seventy of their agents have died in this attempt. I am confident to say that they cannot launch another attack like this again."

"Us, the Brutii, and the Scipii…"

"Vitus."

"Gods…"

"Vitus!"

"Oh! Apologies, Sulla… I'm stunned…"

"As is the entire Republic. Fear is rampant across Italia. Men believe that the Arcani are phantom killers sent from the underworld to reap the souls of the wicked. A blight upon our Republic that I am somehow the root of. What a ridiculous notion. They are but men and they are fallible. Men trained in the arts of deception and death. But now that they've struck, they vanished back into the vast shadows of the Republic… with my gold and blood of the patricians still on their blades." Sulla's eyes hardened. "And you failed to find any worthwhile information on them. I should have your head for such failure. Now who knows how much longer they shall continue to plague us, all because of you. So, Vitus, I ask you this, what do you plan to do once you seize these Assassins?"

The wounded face of Tiberius flashed in his mind, then the once jovial face of Herennius with his throat slashed had appeared next, the smiling form of his cousin Statius as well, then the agony of the bleeding Proculus, and finally the horror-filled pits that resided within Titia's eyes—all those images twirled around in his head.

He clenched his hands, "On the Black Stone, I shall kill them all! They attacked my family, those who hold my blood and my name; they attacked them! I shall never forget that, Sulla! So if you're going to have me killed, get it over with! I'm going to rise from the dead to get my vengeance! My legion will track them down and butcher them like-like… like worms! And you shall not stop me!"

Sulla bolted to his feet with surprising alacrity. "Fuck me, Vitus. So all it took was your clan being attacked personally for you to channel this rage? This is the fire I need in my subordinates! This! Hold on to that flame of vengeance, Vitus. When we find these wretched bastards, we shall bring them all to a deserved end. But take a moment and think. Do you even know where to strike?"

Vitus stared at him, but had no good answer. "No…"

"I figured as much. Stay your army until we know where to attack. I've been staring at this map relentlessly, trying to pinpoint where they could be skulking about."

"Sulla, you know more about them than you let on." The Dictator gave him a sharp glare. Vitus continued, "Upon divulging about their history, you made it seem their ranks were around twenty to thirty men. Yet based on these reports from hitting **every** male member of the Three Families, with at least two assassins, and their casualty reports; they have to had numbered in the hundreds."

Sulla sipped his wine, his eyes not leaving the young Julii. "Sulla, tell me, how many of them are there?"

He exhaled in mild irritation, "At last count when they were active, their numbers were around two hundred."

"Two—?!" Vitus stopped, quickly rubbing his mouth with his palm in a groan. "Facts you could not mention when you gave me the mission to investigate Murio?!"

"Facts that would have not mattered! Your mission was to determine their whereabouts. When they were deactivated, their numbers were in the hundreds. I had assumed that… they would leave such shadowy profession behind. We all did. But upon seeing their strength during the Bloody Ides… I was… we were careless." It seemed that even admitting such had caused him great discomfort. "Such mistakes shall not befall me again. But from what I gathered, at least a hundred of their men perished in these attempts. They cannot launch another attack like this again, I know it in my soul. Now all we must do is track them down and destroy them once and for all."

"Have you checked within Rome?"

"Of course I have!" he snapped. "Do you believe I was born yesterday? I have my soldiers roaming through every damn alley from the Temples of the Palatine to the gutters of the Lower Aventine. I placed a bounty on them for any citizen that reports their whereabouts. Currently no leads have been found. I have _Vigiles_ roaming the countryside for any news or evidence of Arcani strongholds within the peninsula. We will find these cunts, I swear it. Wine!"

A slave sheepishly poured the Dictator another cup. He drank half of it and growled gutturally, "First they try to kill me, then they seize my coffers, and then they seek to annihilate the most noble families in my Republic. Those Arcani… if only," he raised his wrinkled hand in the air, "if only I could hold their fragile throats in my hand and in one swift motion…" he suddenly clenched his hand tightly. He roared like an animal. "Plague, death, and blame… how much more can Jupiter **fuck** my ass from on high?!" He continued to finish his cup of wine.

"Your Excellence!"

A courier bowed as he entered the room and approached Sulla with a sealed letter. Sulla cracked it and promptly began to read. His tense and weary eyes began to soothe. Sulla nodded with a proud smirk. "Very good. You are dismissed, courier." He looked back at the letter, "This is very good indeed. Jupiter, apologies for my previous comment."

"Sulla?" Vitus asked.

"Vitus, I have eyes everywhere on the peninsula, and my sight stretches far into the sea as well. This parchment says that a Scipio is currently sailing his way back to Capua from the war in Egypt. I do not know if he seeks to assume governorship of the capital, but I must have an account from him. He is apparently a day away from the port. I need you to ride to Capua as soon as possible and bring him to Rome so I may speak with him about the Scipii casualties."

 _Another errand from Sulla? Is he serious?! And to the_ _ **Scipii**_ _capital no less? I am a general, not a courier!_ "Sulla…"

"Vitus, I have no other person in Rome that I trust. You hold more security with your guards than any courier. This is for the safety of the entire Republic! I must stay in Rome with my legions to keep this peace. All knowledge that I hold are from letters, I rather hear the news from a live tongue. Ride to Capua, immediately. Find whatever Scipio is present within that city. That is my order! Do not anger me now, or the Arcani's attempt on your life shall be the least of your worries…"

* * *

 **It was so good to finally finish this chapter, I hate when my work stagnates. I do hope I still get Sulla's personality and character right with his bipolar mood swings. I don't really tend to write about real life people, but if I do, I want to do them justice and get as realistic as possible.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **-Kanuro5**


	9. The Wolf on the Waves

**Notes from Kanuro5:** Happy I am able to release another chapter. Real excited because I was planning on introducing this character since I came up with this story. Enjoy!

* * *

 **IX**

 **The Wolf on the Waves**

 **Capua**

"So, who are we searching for exactly?"

Ligadis groaned with a roll of the eyes, "Did you not hear him the first time, Ardunas?"

"I heard him say a Roman name, so we are tracking down a Roman within a Roman city. Such is like searching for a grain of sand within a desert!"

Vitus joined in, "He's a Scipio, he would be of the highest class of society. He would be a most distinguished grain of sand. We must venture to the Governor's Palace and request an audience with him."

As always, Vitus led the column of his mounted bodyguards from the front. They passed by many onlookers on the _Via Appia,_ many with hung jaws and widen eyes. The Scipii capital was in his sight about three hundred meters away. Capua, like the other capitals of the Three Families, was a huge city that could occupy around 300,000 citizens within, and yet the city was dwarfed by the size and significance of Rome itself. A white wolf on a blue field—the Scipii the banner—draped royally over the large walls of Capua, with blue flags staked on scattered points of the walls that billowed in the wind.

"Look at their dockyard, it's huge!" Ardunas said.

In this, Vitus, could not deny. A mile out from Capua was the port of Capua, where all its maritime trade from Africa, Gallia, and Hispania arrived to fill Scipio coffers. From what he could see, a hundred different wharves were established in the dockyard with an abundance of Scipii sails anchored there. The size of that fleet alone dwarfed the Julii fleet in Arretium.

"What a city," Ardunas commented.

Vitus shrugged with a small smirk, "Eh, I suppose so. Cannot hold a flame next to Arretium."

The Gallic archer turned to him, "I do not understand you, Romans. For one people, you all are divided, these Three Families are so scattered throughout this peninsula, why is that so?"

"It occurred centuries ago, Ardunas. Politics, deception, betrayal, and war. Tell me, do you recall the expeditions of the Three Families, where the Senate told them to expand their borders?"

"I do, the Julii were told to venture north to conquer the barbarians. And the Brutii, were uh… were sent to the east to conquer the Greeks."

"Very good. And where were the Scipii sent?"

"Um, to the south to conquer the Carthaginians and Africans."

"Based on these expeditions, our capitals were settled in those directions. Now, Ardunas, what formidable obstacle lies south of Italia?"

He had to think on it for a few moments before answering, "The sea!"

"Indeed. Centuries ago, the Carthaginians controlled the sea and Rome had to build up its fleet to combat Carthage. Now, the Roman Navy is mighty, and it is the Scipii who sail to Africa constantly, and that boasts the mightiest naval power. The Julii and Brutii have our own fleets, but they often pale in comparison to the Scipii."

Vitus' retinue approached the gateway to Capua, where two guards of the Capuan Town Watch stopped them.

"Halt!" the guardsman bellowed with a hand. Some of the Thracians placed their hands on the hilts of their swords, but Vitus raised his hand to calm them.

The second guard blinked in confusion, "You're a Julius! What the hell are you doing here in Capua?"

Vitus cleared his throat. "I am Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion. I'm on imperative business under orders of the Dictator, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, here is his seal."

He showed them both, the guardsmen looked at one another in a pale sweat. "The Di-Di-Dictator?!" one of them stammered. "The Butcher of Rome?!"

"Quiet, you fool! Do not insult Sulla in front of his agent!" the other snapped.

"I stand no agent under Sulla's employ, just a man tasked with mission who intends to complete it. Shall there be trouble?"

"No! No trouble at all, Legatus!" they both snapped to attention.

"Be at ease. My retinue and I demand entrance into the city, we intend no harm, yet our weapons shall stay by our sides. Sulla has heard of the arrival of a Scipio, I need to meet with that man. Do you know his name?"

"Do you plan to investigate the death of Patriarch Quintus?"

"You know of that?"

"The whole damn city has heard of this! His wife, er, his widow has offered substantial coin for the capture of his assassin."

"Hmm, I do not plan to investigate that matter, but I need to know of the arrival of the Scipio recently, what is his name?"

"He is Gaius Scipio Lupus."

Vitus blinked, " 'Lupus'… the 'Wolf on the Waves'?"

The guard nodded fervently, "The very same. He and his entire fleet sailed into Capua yesterday. The whole city turned up to the dockyard to see him."

"He is the only Scipio in the city?"

"Excluding the Patriarch's wife and the wounded Heir, yes he is."

"What is the man's appearance?"

"He's of a good size, holds a natural-born soldier look to him. He has hair black as coal and hair that is long and wolf-like. He also sports a beard. His face would stick out in a crowd."

Vitus rubbed his chin, "What is his character?"

The other guard spoke, "A soldier's soldier. Loud and vulgar, fond of drink and women, a lively one, he's different from most Scipii that we have seen. Once boasted of bedding a quarter of the women in this city."

"That be true, many women say they had his bastards."

"That Lupus is a pure wild man."

"Any discernable retinue that surrounds him?"

"Well, he has a really young body slave and he is accompanied by this African girl. Very dark and very beautiful, you wouldn't miss her."

"Where is your Governor's Palace? I need to find him immediately."

"Oh, uh… I believe he shall not be there, Legatus."

"Explain."

"Well, uh... I heard from Papinius, he's a friend in the Watch whose shift usually tends to the Palace, Lupus has only visited the Palace once, and such was the day on his arrival. And this appears to be solely on formality. Other watchmen noticed that he frequents the 'Darling Oyster' around this time of the day."

"The 'Darling Oyster' what establishment is this?"

"An establishment of whores," said the other guard.

Vitus exhaled, "Of course…"

"It's to the west of the Forum on a hill that overlooks the dockyards, it holds white walls and blue doors, you cannot miss it."

"Gratitude to you both for your service."

The gates creaked opened inwardly, the two guardsmen called for the stable servants to hitch the Julii horses away in the stables. The guards bowed their head and allowed them entry. The sound of Capua exited outward from the gateway, the Julii retinue entered. A group of young men and women near the gate had ceased with their chattering and stared at the armed men in Red.

"Huh, what surprise on their faces," Ligadis remarked, "you would think that they've never seen a Julii before."

"Most likely because they haven't."

"What do you mean, Germanicus?"

"It's quite rare for a member of the Three Families to enter any settlement that is not their own. The only city where the Families intermingle is Rome. Be prepared to be gazed upon… a lot."

And he wasn't wrong. Many more citizens looked on at them and murmured incessantly. He even was stopped several times and questioned by Capuan guardsmen and Scipii legionaries, all ascertaining his presence in the Scipii capital. With each stopped interrogation, Vitus grew more frustrated. But the Julius kept his calm and simply and respectfully stated his business and showed them the seal of Sulla. That stopped the guards and soldiers rather quickly. It was quite strange being in this city, it reminded him of Arretium, yet except for the constant color scheme of red that perforated the city, nearly everything was blue. Blue flags of the Scipio ruffled in the air, Capuan citizens sported blue tunics that ranged from light to dark, not all citizens were wearing blue but just enough to notice the trend. Yet no citizen wore either Julii red or Brutiii green.

They asked for directions for those who responded, and they found the whorehouse. Vitus instructed his bodyguards to watch the entrance and took Ligadis and Ardunas inside with him. It was near afternoon in Italia and well into peak business inside the brothel.

Proculus had offered to take him into many brothels in the past; some were depraved and filthy as one was where customers fornicated in the open and where homely whores charged pleasures with the mouth for five denarii; and others were high-classed that demanded fornication be done in privacy and held the most beautiful courtesans from all over the world and would charge pleasures with the mouth for fifty denarii. The Darling Oyster was the former. Whores, both women and men, were walking around shirtless and being catcalled by loud lust-driven patrons who shouted out prices as if purchasing slaves at auctions. Some men were opening fornicating in the corners of the room with false screams of pleasure by the prostitutes echoing throughout the building. All of this made Vitus uneasy. Whenever Proculus used to bring him to places like these and show him some women; Vitus had turned them down, he did want to lose his virginity, but not in that manner and at his own pace.

A scantily-clad women swayed over to Vitus. He blushed, the whore had massive breasts and pressed her bare bountiful bosom against his armored chest and beamed with a smile. "You're mighty cute, soldier boy. Do you care to sheathe your sword into my scabbard?"

"That's uh… kind of you to inquire, b-but I am here for business."

She gave him a playful wink and a caressing hand on the outline of his groin, and purred, "As am I."

Ardunas leaned behind him with a smile, "If you won't be having her…"

Vitus raised his hand to him, "And neither shall you."

The Gaul groaned, and the whore took the hint. She backed away and winked at him once more, cupping her breasts playfully, "My name is Vena, call for me if you wish to play with my girls!"

His loins were stirring, Vena's "girls" were thrice as big as Titia's… _No! No! Do not think those thoughts! Do not be as Proculus was in the past! Find Lupus and leave!_

"The tits on her!" Ardunas acknowledged. "Gods, she must be an Iberian!"

"Enough of the prattle, let us find this Scipio," Vitus said curtly. "If we had to find a man famous for bedding a quarter of the women in the city, where would we find him in the brothel?"

Ardunas cleared his throat, "It is from my experience, Germanicus, that the men of higher status and higher purse fuck on the higher floors."

That sounded good to Vitus, anything to get out of the cesspool of the main level. They snaked their way through the rivers of moans and pants to make their way to the top floor. Vitus was awakened to debaucheries that he could not imagine, nor desired to witness. Two men were taking a woman from behind, screaming for them to ravish her anus harder. A small Roman was passionately fondling the testicles of a burly Egyptian as he licked the lengthy shaft. The rest of the rooms thankfully had their curtains closed for the patrons' privacy, Vitus gave a sigh of relief, he wasn't sure how much he could take.

Before him was a large curtain that shielded the doorway to the "penthouse" of the brothel. From behind the curtain, the orgasmic moans of a woman were penetrating the hallway. Vitus eyed the ground bashfully at the sound as he walked closer to the room. He and his men were stopped by someone guarding the entrance. The guard was quite young, about fifteen in age with a slender body and held the beauty of a maiden in his face. He looked as if he belonged to an acting troupe. A brown collar was wrapped around his neck loosely and a tag of the Scipii hung from the collar.

The boy held out his hand, "Halt! State your business." His voice was pleasant and sweet, his accent was Greek.

"I've come for Scipio Lupus," Vitus said.

"Apologies, but Scipio Lupus does not desire to be disturbed at the moment. If you have any need of business, please break words with me."

"And you're his body slave?"

"I am. Now what would you have of him?"

A shrill cry of pleasure came from the room behind the slave. "Auctus!" came a voice from inside the curtain, "Get in here, I need you. Now!"

Vitus noticed a beam of glee in the slave's face. "At once, _Dominus_!" He spun on the balls of his feet and darted off into the room, leaving Vitus, Ligadis, and Ardunas alone to look at one another quizzically.

Following the woman's moans of pleasure was now a man who was howling in ecstasy.

"Should… uh, should we go in?" Ligadis asked.

"It's never best to part a man from climax in an intense fuck," Ardunas mentioned. "Best way to get cut to pieces, that is."

Vitus sighed, "A small price to pay. I've already dishonored myself by being seen entering this establishment and I shall not wait any longer."

He parted the curtain as he passed through it, his nostrils were smacked with heavy aroma of musty sex that wafted within the room. There were about three whores present as they poured wines into empty cups and began to consume them with hearty laughs. After one finished her drinking, she began caressing the others' breasts and kissing on them. On the bed were three bodies moving in intimate fashion. The slave boy, and a grown man thrusting into a dark-skinned woman beneath him. The man who was thrusting fit the description of Scipio.

He was a sizeable man. Though he had the facial structure of a proper Roman—the cheekbones, the nose, and the jaw—his physical appearance was anything but. His hair was black as the night sky and was long and messy, falling past his ears. He bore a blackened beard that was unkempt yet wasn't bushy or thick. In all appearance, he did indeed look like a wolf. Vitus pondered if that was why his cognomen was "Lupus".

The boy slave that had initially guarded the doorway was currently wrapping his lithe arms around Lupus' neck and entwined his tongue with the Roman's. Lupus was thrusting harder into the black woman, she was bucking back, her legs wrapped around his waist, her voice rising in octave. He pulled out and slammed vigorously into her and moaned inside the boy's mouth, his climax reaching its peak. The woman's back arched off the bed, her toes were curling, her voice was louder than a trumpet. Lupus broke the kiss from his boy-toy and collapsed on top of the black woman, immediately tonguing her with voracious ravenousness.

Vitus cleared his throat.

The shaggy-haired Scipio turned his eyes towards the Julius. "Who the fuck are you?" his voice was a baritone.

Ligadis spoke for him, best way to show authority. "This here is Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion."

The lusty atmosphere in the sex-stench room died away. Lupus eyed Vitus with a raised brow. He got off the woman, "A Julius? In Capua?" He scoffed with a grin, "A rarity to find you in Scipii territory."

"These are strange times. Normally, I would not have ventured here."

"Indeed, these are strange times. And why wouldn't you visit Capua? You do not desire the color blue? You Reds and your fucking pride." The Scipio grunted and looked at Vitus' sword belt, "Why are you armed?"

"You can never be too careful nowadays."

"Two for two, your truth speaks volumes of your wisdom."

"And I do take it that you are the ranking Scipio in Capua?"

"Indeed," he exhaled with a smirk, "That I am." He held his arms out triumphantly, "You have the lovely pleasure of gazing upon Gaius Scipio Lupus, the Wolf on the Waves, Admiral of The Howling Sails, and Victor of the Battle of the Cyrenaican Sea."

"Apologies, _Dominus_ , I told them you would not desire to be disturbed," the young slave boy uttered.

"You did well, Auctus. You held them off until I finished. For that, I believe you deserve a reward."

Auctus' smile grew from ear-to-ear. "Gratitude, _Dominus_. You are so kind to—"

Lupus quickly, yet softly grabbed the boy's protruding erection through the tunic. The slave gasped with crossed-eyes of pleasure. Lupus planted a gentle kiss on his lips and whispered, "Shh. Do not speak. Just strip and lay on all fours like the puppy you are. And make sure you shake that ass, little pup."

"A-HEM!" Vitus cleared his throat even louder. "I am still here!"

Lupus turned with irritation, "So you are… well do not stand and gawk, you see all these whores with sopping cunts? Take out your cock and fill some holes, and drink some wine while you're at it."

Ardunas grinned, "I like this Roman." He began to undress.

"Nooooo." Vitus sharply said, blocking the Gaul with an extended arm. "I do not indulge with prostitutes."

"Fine, be that way. How about this one?" he pointed to the nude African by his side. "She is no whore. This here is my woman. Her name is Suba. A true beauty from the lands of Numidia." He brought his arm over her shoulder and cupped her breast. Vitus' eyes were drawn to her nipples. Unlike Titia's, this Suba had darkened nipples like beads. Her eyes were as brown as her skin, and her thighs were thick with flesh. Her wavy and luscious hair was flowing down past her shoulders and seemingly darker than black. Lupus did not lie about her beauty. Such exoticness radiated from her short face, her large lips, and supple cheeks that she shone regality as if a tribal princess.

She sucked her lips mischievously and eyed the Julii up and down before giving her answer. Her accent was rich and sultry, "He's small, but fit, he is decent-looking and those two eyes of his… blue and green…" she breathed hard as if her climax was being dragged out, "…exotic. The most wonderful color of gems." She smiled at her lover and nodded with a coo. "I can have him."

"Wh-What? No, no, no! I'm not here for that. And besides, I am married!"

Lupus and Suba just stared at him. Suba said to Lupus, "I can have him."

"By the mercy of—" Vitus grumbled. "Lupus, focus! I am serious here!"

Lupus clenched his eyes and groaned loudly, "Gods, I guess you really aren't here for cunt or ass. For what purpose do you fucking interrupt me?"

"You are called to aid the Republic."

Lupus unleashed a guttural laugh. "What did you say?"

"I did not stutter."

Lupus squeezed the breast of Suba and enjoyed the breathless moan she gave. "Unless the 'aid' is to pleasure someone, then I am not interested." His tongue entered her mouth as his hand fondled the testicles of his slave boy.

"I am afraid you do not understand. You are called upon, it is no matter of interest."

Lupus broke his kiss with a groan. "So, Germanicus, who calls me?"

"The Dictator, Sulla."

"Sulla?! He calls me?" Lupus continued to laugh. "Here, come sample this Falernian! A man skilled in jests must be skilled in drink."

"I do not jest on this accord."

"You must be! To have the 'Great Dictator' personally request my ass to aid the Republic, ha!"

Vitus narrowed his eyes and looked around the crowded room, "Tell your people to leave, I have something of import to speak upon."

"Whatever it is that you choose to speak upon, you may do so around them. One is my lover, the other my trusted body slave, and the rest are whores. Your secret is safe."

 _Safe among whores?_ He sighed. Looks like he had to say it. Vitus stood tall. "As safe as you were or your entire family five nights ago?"

The jovial expression on the bearded face of Lupus evaporated. Vitus noticed the wrinkling of his brow and the steel in his eyes as he commanded his people with a single word. "Out."

The whores promptly scattered, but his slave Auctus, and his lover, Suba, stayed. She said, "Gaius, my sweet, what is—"

"Out! Both of you, now!"

Suba grabbed her clothes, she and Auctus scampered out. Auctus moved in great discomfort, holding his untreated erection in mild pain. Vitus nodded to Ligadis and Ardunas, they left without saying a word. Now both Julius and Scipio were left alone.

Lupus found his undergarments and clothed himself as he stood to his feet. "What do you know about those assassins, Julius?"

"That the Three Families of Rome: the Julii, the Brutii, and the Scipii, were all targeted in a coordinated assassination attempt five nights ago. Only men of the age of 14 and older were targeted, **every** one of them. I was with my brother and both of our wives in Genua on that night, four masked men came in with swords to kill us. We killed them, but my brother was wounded. Our host for the night was part of our family, and thus he was killed. They came for my uncle Decius, the Patriarch. He was wounded but his guards killed the masked men… but…" Vitus struggled with the words, "But Statius, Decius' son and my cousin, and the Heir of the Julii, was murdered that night. This is personal for me. And Sulla received letters days later of the attacks from all three Families, all across the Republic.

The Blue Wolf blinked incredulously. "You're serious, it wasn't just us Scipii?"

"No."

"Fuck…" he guzzled wine from his cup.

"What had happened to you?"

Lupus looked at him, then sat on the bed, his eyes focused on the floor. "I arrived in Sicilia to rest from the wars with the Gypts and landed in Syracuse. In the hour of the moon, two men, with blackened facemask and dark cloaks came at me in the dead of night. I had just come from a drawn bath when they attacked me. As I fended them off, I told Auctus to gather the guards and he ran off. I took one of their swords in the struggle and slashed one of their throats. The second one nearly had me, but Suba came to my aid and killed him."

Vitus raised a brow, "She did?"

He gave a soft grin, but it was of pride. "She did. Ran her sword straight through the assassin's back, mere moments before he could have killed me. She was trained from girlhood to fight. Oooohhh I fucked her good that night for what she did for me."

Vitus rolled his eyes. Lupus ran his hand through his beard and asked, "Did Sulla send these men or—"

"No, the same masked men who attacked all of us had tried to kill him in his own home two weeks ago."

"What? What is going on in this world?"

"A question I dearly want answered. But back to your story, if you were in Sicilia the night of the Bloody Ides, then why did you return to Capua?"

"I sailed to Capua to speak to our Patriarch, Quintus Scipio, yet I was told that the same men who tried to kill me had slaughtered him. His son, Gnaeus, barely survived and is in a wounded-sleep and may not awake. His guardsmen managed to kill one of the assassins, and he wore the exact same outfit that those bastards wore when they tried to end me. The other managed to flee. Yesterday I had to console Quintus' wife." He sighed remorsefully with a somber shake of the head, "Bad business, that was."

"I know what that is like, and I grieve for you."

For a moment, Vitus thought he saw the iron in the Scipio's eyes fall, as if accepting the Julius before him. "Gratitude for that, but you may keep your grieving. It shall not resurrect the dead… Who were these people that attacked all of us?"

"They are… shit…"

"What? Who are they?"

"I cannot say. Sul—" he sighed, "Forget it, you shall find out anyway if Sulla shall speak to you… they are assassins of the Arcani."

"The fuck is that?"

"An order of merciless killers trained from the shadows under the direct employ of the Senate."

Lupus bolted up to his feet, "So it was Sulla?! Fucking Sulla?!"

"No! No! Not him, do recall they made an attempt on his life. And this order of assassins went rogue and now started targeting the Three Families."

"For what purpose?"

"We still do not know."

"But you're here to find out?"

"Yes. Sulla needs to know more information from all families. He is aware of the death of the Scipii Patriarch and Heir and wonders who commands the capital. You **are** in command of the Scipii capital? Correct?"

"As I am a Scipio, yes, technically. For the moment. I am not meant for governorship, and I hold no idea if our Heir shall survive his wounds. I hold no notion of the ladder of succession for Patriarch and Heir in the Scipii. But I did receive a letter that Vibius Scipio is seeking to ride to Capua to take command of the settlement. He can have it, in the meanwhile, I plan to enjoy myself before returning to war with the Gypts. The Urban Prefect can manage this city without me, no; he can manage this city better than I." He put his wine down and sat with his chin in his hand for a quiet moment of reflection. "This **was** my plan, but it seems that Neptune has other ideas for me now."

Vitus nodded, "Indeed he do. First, we must return to Sulla so that he may inform you of everything that is going on.

"I understand. But before that, I have something… valuable, to show you."

"What is it?"

"Follow me and you shall see. Come with me to the dockyard."

* * *

They ventured a mile out of Capua on horseback, both of their retinue accompanying them, and arrived in the great dockyards of the Scipii capital. The heavy smell of saltwater was rather invigorating from the stench of sex that had filled Vitus' nose sometime prior. Aboard a galley was a sail marked with a blue wolf on a white field, the inverted coloring of the Scipii banners, Lupus' personal standard. Two Scipii soldiers were on board guarding a hatch below deck.

Lupus spoke to Vitus, "Leave your guards here, Germanicus."

Vitus' eyes narrowed, but he agreed to it despite the protest of some of his men. One of the Scipio guards handed a torch to Lupus, the other opened a hatch below deck. Lupus descended the stairs first. Vitus followed him below and as he reached the bottom, the hatch above him closed.

Startled, he went for his sword, but Lupus shushed him and moved the torch closer to Vitus' face to see. The ship was rocking with gradual ease from the calm waters. The scent of salt dissipated completely, only to be filled with an odor of immense displeasure. It smelt like the air was burning, it had a sour and bitter smell to it, yet it was no flame that was burning wood. The stench was **everywhere** below deck. What a horrid smell!

"Wow, what is this strong… odor? It dizzies the mind…" Vitus remarked.

Lupus cackled and patted him on the back, "That is no odor, but aroma. Aroma of poppy, I've took some in my voyages from the East. It… lightens the mind and calms the nerves in controlled dosages. A beautiful gift from the Earth Mother."

Lupus took the torch and lit other torches attached to the walls, providing the compartment better lighting. Vitus noticed a man with a bag over his head, his hands and legs tied to a chair, who was sitting quietly in the middle of the compartment.

"Lupus, what is this?"

"Hmm… Do you recall when I said that I killed one of my assassins and Suba killed the second?"

"Yes?"

The Scipio gave a simple shrug, "Eh, I bore false tongue on that recollection. I knocked out the first man, and **then** Suba killed the second."

"Why deceive me?"

"Simple. I did not trust you; we just met half an hour ago. And before you finished your tale, I was mighty suspicious of you. For all I could have known, the Julii could have sent those men to kill me, and if you believed one of them alive…"

"I see your point. Who else knows about him?"

"Just my crew and you."

"You did not inform your family?"

"Before they know, I personally desire to inquire why this man tried to have me killed, then I will give him to whoever governs Capua."

Lupus approached the subdued Arcani and quickly pulled the black hood off his head. The assassin had dried blood caked around his mouth and nose, a piece of cloth was used to gag his mouth. He looked gaunt and pathetic, was this man of the same physical stock that tried to murder Vitus a few nights ago?

"What did you do to him?" He approached the tied-up man, and suddenly he clenched his nose and winced. "By the Gods, he reeks!"

"I kept him in that chair with no light, no food, and _very_ little water for four days. I gagged him in case he decided to end his life by biting his tongue. He fouled himself a few times, so I'm hoping that such may encourage him to speak. I have not spoken to him yet. Knowing these assassins, he probably would refuse to speak. And with this method of mine, I believe he shall talk."

Vitus stepped back, the smell of shit evaporating amidst the rankness of burning poppy. "And this man has been in a room with his shit and this poppy mixed in the air?" Vitus coughed.

"For four days, straight. Every six hours, I burn an additional batch, stronger than the previous ones."

"That's, well… that's quite a stash of poppy you have then."

"I am aware. Such is the length I am willing to go to get some information from this mumping bastard." He grumbled softly to himself, "Making me waste most of my poppy, you damn worm…"

Lupus looked to Vitus, "Allow me to speak to him, he did try to come for me after all. Are you ready, Julius?"

"By all means, Scipio."

Lupus removed the gag from the assassin's mouth and kicked the immobile man hard in his shin. "Wake up, you fucking peacock!"

The man grumbled into consciousness and recoiled at the sight of the flame with a hiss. After that hiss, he unearthed a whining cry and began thrashing his head back and forth. Lupus smacked him in the face with a "Hey!"

The detained man shrieked. And once he stopped, his head was rolling from his shoulders like a ball, "Shadows! Dancing, angry shadows! Why me?! Dancing and angry, and angry and dancing! Harm me not, oh shadow man!" he then began to weep.

 _No food, very little water, no sunlight, covered in feces, and drugged constantly_ _ **for four straight days**_ _… no wonder he is speaking nonsense,_ Vitus thought.

Vitus leaned into Lupus' ear, "He is delirious. Are you certain you can gather anything from a mind of mush?"

"Well we shall see, won't we?"

The Scipio placed his palm on the assassin's cheek, he recoiled instantly. Lupus began to quickly shush him. "Be at peace, you are safe. With me."

"Father? Father? Is… that you?"

"Uhhhh… certainly, my boy… do you not recognize your own father?"

"It is so dark, your voice, sounds like... oh my head, my stomach… are the walls, melting? Why are these black walls melting, Father?" he slurred.

"Uh… they are not melting, my son. Be at peace with me."

"Father, oh Father. I do not feel so well… so hungry, so thirsty…water…"

"My boy, my precious boy, uh… uh, do you recall what I named you, my son?"

"My head feels like it shall split open! My head!" he screamed.

"My son! What is your name?"

"My name, Father… is Quintus."

"Quintus… my son, my strong son."

"Mother! Mother! Is she here, Father?! The walls are melting, Mother!"

Lupus shushed him with a tender finger, "Your mother is sleeping. You must lower voice. Do you desire to see her again?"

"I want to see her again, I desire to apologize for what I have done!"

"And what have you done, my son."

"Many things, Father. Many things…"

"Tell me my son, and I shall tell your mother to forgive you."

He whimpered for some time before speaking, "I dishonored our family."

"What is our family name?"

"Paetus, Father, I have dishonored the Paetii family…" tears rolled down his eyes.

"What have you done my son?"

"I have dishonored Jupiter Optimus Maximus…" His head slumped down, his voice a whisper, "So thirsty… so tired… I cannot sleep, the world smells bizarre—"

Lupus gripped the back of his head, "Focus, Quintus. My son, what have you done?"

"I have robbed men, women, and even children…"

"Of their purse?"

He shook his head fervently. Lupus leaned in close and whispered, "Did you rob them of their lives?"

Quintus Paetus nodded softly, but sobbed loudly. "For many years in the shadow, I have done this."

"Have… Have you ever embraced such a deed close to your heart?"

"Once I have, when I stole your purse and fled to Philippi, forgive me for that, Father."

"I shall forgive you, from where did you go from Philippi?"

"I traveled to Rome, father, and I found them, the Great Ones."

"Who are the 'Great Ones', my son?

"If I speak their name, I shall die."

"You will not die, son. You have my word."

"NO! They will kill me! I know it!"

Lupus started sobbing and cupped the prisoner's cheeks tenderly. "My son, my brave son. You honor our family with your strength! Jupiter has blessed me with a son as strong as you Quintus."

Vitus could have sworn he spotted a tear falling down Quintus' face. "Father…"

"You seek to protect us from these 'Great Ones', my son. My wonderful son. Do not be afraid, they cannot harm us."

"They can. Both of them can."

"How can they both harm us? What can they do?"

"They can do anything."

"They are but mortals, my brave boy."

"No. _Taurus_ and _Vipera_ can strike any mortal down from anywhere."

Vitus and Lupus looked at one another. " ' _Taurus'_ and 'Vipera'? The Bull and the Snake?" Vitus asked softly.

Lupus turned to the strung-out man. "Who are 'Taurus' and 'Vipera', my son?"

"The walls! By Jupiter, the walls are closing in on me! They shall swallow us! Swallow us all!"

"Quintus, my son! Are Taurus and Vipera the 'Great Ones'?"

Quintus was trembling, "How do you know their names? Now they shall kill you."

"Your mother grieves, Quintus. She knows of the Arcani."

"NOOOOOO!" the drugged man screamed with mighty thrashes. So sudden were his movements it caused Lupus to jump backwards. "No, we must hide her!"

"It is alright, Quintus. She is safe."

"No! She is not safe, you are not safe! They kill everyone who knows of them! Great men and weak ones! No one survives!"

"Do they lead the Arcani?"

"They do."

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

"What of them? What measure are they? Uh… um… uh do they measure more than your father."

"Yes, more than anyone I have known. Taurus is strong and righteous. Yet Vipera is silent and ruthless. Vipera shall kill mother. Vipera shall kill her, you, and me. Because of what I said, those graced with the name Paetus shall perish… Vipera shall kill them."

"What are their names?"

" 'Taurus' and 'Vipera'."

"No, their true names?"

"I do not know, they tell no one but those close to them… F-Father…"

"Fine. Do you recall their great appearance?"

"They look like mortals, but they are greater than mortals!"

"What do they look like? Do they hold scars on their face? Is one taller than the other?"

"They are greater… than mortals! So says Jupiter Optimus Maximus! His will is great! His will… Father, I am so hungry…"

"I shall give you some food, but first I must know more."

"I cannot tell you… oh no," he let out a wail. "My stomach twists in knots! Father, please provide me food, anything!" His weeps were becoming louder. "Father, please!"

"Tell me more, and you can get some food!"

"I'm hungry! Please, Father! I beg of you." The hunger pangs made the man double over in his bindings in agony.

"Lupus," Vitus whispered through his teeth, "give him some food so he can continue to talk."

Lupus turned around and growled softly through his teeth. "No! I shall not reward this cockswallower food or water. My piss and shit shall be better nourishment for this cur!"

He turned back to the delirious man, "Quintus, oh Quintus. I love you, Quintus."

Tears rolled down his cheek. "I love you, Father."

Lupus leaned in and hugged the crying man. Vitus was surprised someone would embrace another who reeked of shit.

"Whose life did you try to end, Quintus?"

"A Scipio. Gaius Scipio. Cipius and I were dispatched to end his life. Yet we failed… we failed in our training… and Cipius is dead yet I remain alive to be punished by Vipera and Taurus."

"Why did you seek to kill that man, my son?"

"Because he was decadent! They all were!" Quintus suddenly screamed. "The Scipii, Brutii, and Julii! The whole damn lot of them! They sided with that Butcher, Sulla! They betrayed the foundation of the Republic! Demolished the Great Temple of Jupiter in Rome! They have destroyed everything that Rome held dear! Vipera and Taurus claim so and Jupiter Optimus Maximus demands their deaths!" He then fell into a hard fit of coughing. Lupus gave him some water.

"So sleepy, Father… so…"

"Hey! Wake up, Quintus!" Lupus lightly hit him. "What else do you mean, how are the Great Families decadent?"

"They're viiiiiiile creatures filled with viiiiiice, whose only talent is to bring ruin… to the Republic and claim that such is rewarding, yet the only ones who profit are them. I was to end one of the most decadent of the Scipii, yet I failed."

"What would you have done if you succeeded?"

"Returned to Athens as a hero..."

"Athens?!" Vitus blurted out.

Lupus moved away from the tied man to address Vitus. "What about that?"

"By the Gods… do you recall when I said that I was tracking down information of Sulla's assassin? One of the people I spoke to mentioned sightings of the assassin in Athens. And now this man mentions him returning to Athens as well?"

Lupus' eyes widened, "What was that assassin's name?"

"Hilarus Murio."

The bearded Roman nodded and returned to Quintus. "Now Quintus, do you recall a man named Hilarus Murio?"

"What?! H-How do you know of him?!"

"Answer my question."

"How do you know these things, Father?! Why do you know?" he cried.

"Answer the damn question!" Lupus' impatience sang out in his voice.

The bound man sobbed a few more times, "He... He was one of us, new and eager to prove himself. He was very devout to Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Taurus took note of his zeal and sent him to purge the Dictator."

"What of Vipera?"

"Vipera was vocal in opposition, he cited… he cited he was too inexperienced, but Taurus countered that his faith shall carry him. Yet, Sulla still draws breath, and Vipera was correct in the end. Always correct… correct he be, that Vipera."

"So, you would return to Athens?"

His head began to droop, his words were lagging, "Yes… Faaaaather… I woulddddddd..."

"Where in Athens?"

"I d-d-do nnnnnot know… where…."

"Yes, you do. Think, Quintus! Where would you go?"

His head was dropping more frequently, his eyes were rolling in his head. "Father… I…"

"Hey, Quintus, wake up!" he slapped him on the cheek.

"Father…" was the only word he slurred.

Lupus gritted his teeth and slapped him even harder, "Fucking wake up! Do not close your eyes on me! Wake up!"

The Arcani's eyes closed and his head dropped down and he did not stir, no matter how many times Lupus had hit him.

"Gods!" Lupus roared with both hands on his waist, "So close! He had to fall to a deep slumber at **that** moment! Fuck!"

Vitus patted the Scipio on the shoulder, "That was incredible to watch! You did it! You divulged such precious information. Now we know their possible sanctuary."

"We don't even know where in Athens they reside."

"We can always wait until he confesses through torture."

"No, such action would take too long. We need to leave now. Since they attacked us five days ago, they may have already left Athens. We need to be on their trail immediately."

Both men left the unconscious assassin and ventured back up the deck of the ship.

"Thank Neptune for the sea air," Vitus exhaled. The stench of the poppy and that Arcani was near unbearable in that cramped space below. The bracing breeze and the salty smell of the water was rejuvenating for his nostrils. To the pier, his men looked relieved to see that he returned unscathed.

Vitus looked over his shoulder, "You are right, Lupus. There's no time to waste, the Arcani need to be tracked down. Hey, you have my utmost gratitude in aiding me in this. I shall not forget this."

And with that, Vitus motioned to leave the ship and was halfway off until…

"Julius, wait!"

"What is it?"

"You seek to return to Sulla?"

"Of course, he needs to know. And you'll understand that you'd need to come as well and with the prisoner."

"Understood. And after that?"

"These assassins are nested within Athens. My soldiers will be there and put them to the sword."

Lupus folded his arms, "You believe it possible to force march your legion from Italia to Greece, specifically Athens? By the time your tired troops arrive, the Arcani would have surely vanished back into the shadows."

"So what do you suggest?"

"An entire body of water is accessible to cross, which shall save you half the time on land. And an entire fleet at my beck and call to transport you."

"Wait a moment, your fleet?"

"The Howling Sails, consisting of about 60 ships: quins, quads, and triremes at my disposal; all manned by the fiercest marines birthed from the dregs of society that frighten Triton himself. We shall sail down the Mediterranean and get our vengeance.

Vitus blinked incredulously. "You are coming as well?"

"Of course I am. I may not hold such affection to my family as much as you, but I am still a Scipio, damn it! I have my pride. These Arcani, I believe that this is not over yet, that if we sit and wait, they shall attack us again. I do. If they believe that we will just roll over and die because they attacked us, then they do not know who the fuck we are. My ancestors were renowned for decimating their enemies who had claimed first blood against the Republic! Cross the sea and venture into Carthage! And speak with their leaders and ask them of us Scipii, but do not be alarmed when there is no one present to hear. We are the Scipii. We do not wait for the storm, we **bring** the storm!"

Vitus continued to stare at him. By the Gods, those eyes of his, he was serious. His points were valid as well. They can shave much time if they sail instead of march. And a fleet of experienced sailors and marines could always come in hand. But then again, he was a Scipio… But then again, this was now a war…

"I cannot recall the last time the Julii and the Scipii formed such an alliance."

"Neither can I, but these are trying times. Listen, Julius, I shall accompany you to Rome, I shall speak with Sulla, and I shall allow your legion to sail in my ships. With these men of intrigue who can attack us so fiercely from the comfort of our own residences, then such means that Hannibal is now at our gates."

"Indeed, they are. As such, the Republic cannot stand if we are divided."

Vitus Julius extended his hand.

Gaius Scipio gave a short chuckle and shook it firmly with a wicked smile, "Your soldiers, my ships. Oh what glorious trouble we shall make for them. So, am I to be your second in this endeavor of ours?"

"We are to be equals."

"There are no 'equals' in the Republic, I thought you were aware of such. But alas, if we shall be equals, then we are equals."

* * *

 **Yep, the Scipii are now officially in the story! With Legion and Navy combining into one mighty force! Whoo! So excited to where this will lead.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **-Kanuro5**


	10. Ad Familia Mei

**Note from Kanuro5** : Hello to you readers. My job as a new school teacher has been very overwhelming. Please know that I try to get these chapters posted as quickly as I can. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

 **X**

 **Ad Familia Mei**

The intoxicating scent of frankincense wafted within the medical chambers of the Pro-Consul's Palace as Vitus entered, all the better to mask the stench of human innards, Vitus figured. He caught the lead physician applying talc powder onto his hands as his servants were cleaning his operating tools. The physician caught sight of Vitus and addressed him, his Greek accent was strong, "Come to see him, have you?"

"Indeed, I have. How is he?"

"He is a strong man and shall recover in time. He will move with a mild limp from the pain, but within a year of rest and recovery, he shall be as strong as he was before he was wounded."

That put a smile on the young man's face. "Is he awake?"

"He is. Just left him about five minutes ago. You may go in; his wife is also with him."

"Can he still drink wine?"

"I recommend in small quantities, but yes."

He gave the physician a nod and entered the room past the curtains. On a cot, lied Proculus with his stomach covered in wrapping and poultices, as candles lit on the windowsill overlooked his still form. Beside him was Appia, sitting on a stool with her soft hand resting on her husband's shoulder. Vitus' arrival brought a smile to Appia, yet Proculus just inhaled through his nostrils.

"Back from your trip, eh?" Proculus asked him, his voice slightly above a whisper.

"Just arrived in Arretium an hour ago. I had my new Tribune arrive yesterday to mobilize the Legion."

"Yes, Appia has informed me."

"How do you feel, Proculus?"

He sighed listlessly, "Terrible. Every time I move to achieve comfort, my stomach aches. That Greek keeps feeding me different extracts and tonics that are rotten as bile. I'm quite sure my own piss will have a better taste."

Appia rolled her eyes, "Proculus… I believe the taste of your treatment would be small matters compared to the fact that you yet breathe and shall recover."

"Indeed… within a year."

Vitus eyed the bandaged laceration on his brother's stomach, "The wound was deep."

"So, I was told… and _fondly_ remembered. That damn poker you shoved in me, I was sure the end of that thing would exit my back."

Vitus grabbed a stool and sat beside the couple. "But you survived, my heart would not endure if you had perished, Proculus."

Proculus actually managed a smile, "Oh, so you do love me?"

"As a pig loves a butcher. And seeing how you got stuck like a pig…"

Proculus clenched his teeth and shook his head, "Oh you are so fortunate I am confined to this bed, Vitus."

Vitus laughed. Appia giggled. Even Proculus chuckled.

Vitus pulled out a wineskin pouch from behind his back and held it in front of the couple, "I brought you a gift. It's Capuan White, hope you enjoy it." He then handed it to Appia, "To enjoy in small quantities."

Appia nodded, uncorking the wineskin and pressing the mouth of the pouch to Proculus' lips. He gulped it down hastily for a moment before she pulled it back.

"So, 'Capuan White', huh?" Appia muttered. "We didn't know your travels took you to Scipii lands."

"It was not planned for, more of an order by the Dictator."

"Oh. I see."

"So, what did you find when you left?" Proculus asked.

Vitus played with his hands, "A great many things."

"Any of them positive?"

The younger brother shook his head. "Oh Venus, where to even begin…"

He decided to speak first upon Sulla's mentioning of the attempted purge of the Three Families. Then he told them of Scipio Lupus and of his character and then his meeting with the assassin, and how Lupus and him conversed with Sulla; yet, he left out the name "Arcani" in his conversations, and he told them of their possible whereabouts, and his mission to root them out and destroy them.

Understandably, the couple were blinking in disbelief. "The Brutii and the Scipii as well…?" Appia gasped, her mouth hanging low.

"By the fucking Gods…" Proculus cursed, his hand covering his eyes. "What has befallen Rome?"

"I know," Vitus told them. "To think that these black assassins' reach extends throughout the Republic, from Hispania to Cyprus, is truly frightening. Even more reason they have to be destroyed so another massacre like this shall not ensue."

"And such is the mission that Sulla assigns you and this Scipio?"

"Yes, it is."

* * *

A few days ago, Vitus Julius and Gaius Scipio had sailed from Capua and they had docked in Ostia, purchasing a oxen cart for transport. Their destination was the Eternal City. Both Julius Germanicus and Scipio Lupus were riding in the front of the oxen cart with Lupus holding the reins. Their respective bodyguards were walking along their flanks in a protective formation. Vitus looked behind in the back of the cart, the contents of the prized was covered by a grey tarp, to protect it from the outside world.

The capital of the "Civilized World" was still in the state that Vitus had left it in. Pestilence running amok, men were walking around with heads lowered and eyes on the ground, women were weeping over corpses, and knifemen were running around searching for the names of the proscribed. Homes were boarded up by the families who fled or were forced into exile. Several complexes were dilapidated, the wood was rotting, and the tiles of the ceilings were falling off to splinter into bunches of pieces. Those citizens who were not weeping openly wore masks of forlorn.

Lupus had a look of mild disgust of his surroundings. " _This is the 'Great City'? By Neptune, what happened to this place_?"

Vitus leaned in and whispered into his ear, " _Disease and Sulla_." He then pointed to the heads on spikes and children throwing rocks at them.

Vitus could hear a drawn-out, " _Shit_ …" exit Lupus' low-gaping mouth.

Suddenly, a group of soldiers with purple-cladded armor made a line formation and stopped the cart. The bodyguards of Germanicus and Lupus stepped forward with hands on their weapons. A centurion walked forth and announced, " _Vitus Julius Germanicus, Legatus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion, you and your colleague are hereby summoned to stand before His Most Excellence, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, Dictator of The Republic, Imperator of the Eastern Legions. You shall follow us to the Dictator's residence at the Capitoline_."

" _Of course_." Vitus said.

The centurion saluted and his men fell-out in military fashion. The ox cart started following them to the Palatine. Lupus was stunned.

" _We were here for about five minutes. How did he know_ —"

" _Sulla sees all in Rome. He probably knew I was here before we passed the Field of Mars. If I was you, Scipio, I would practice that wolf smile of yours, maybe it shall beat Sulla's Scowl_."

" _You are quite right_." He then exhaled, " _Give me a moment_ …"

Their senatorial escort brought them up to the most fascinating form of the Capitoline Hill and to Sulla's luxurious home. In front of the door was Sulla Felix, bent over from age, yet sporting an honest smile. Behind him were men and women of the patrician class who followed his every move and word, retainers and sycophants.

Sulla gave a short laugh, " _Ah, Vitus! You have returned, and with company_." His retainers started clapping.

Vitus gave a hesitant wave with a forced smile, " _That I have, Sulla_."

Sulla walked closer, his wrinkled face scrunched at Lupus, " _You, the driver… I recall your face…_ "

The Scipio smirked, " _It lifts the heart that you do. For my name is Gaius Scipio Lupus, the Wolf on the Waves_!"

" _Ah, that you are. And for what reason have you brought him before me, Vitus_?"

" _For he was the Scipio that was in Capua, and he has brought you something of import_."

Sulla's eyebrows rose. " _Truly? Then I am most eager to receive such a gift_."

Lupus chuckled and snapped his fingers twice to his men, " _Bring him out_!"

Lupus' men swung open the tarp over the oxen cart and heaved out a large chest, big enough to fit three talents of coinage inside, and placed the heavy chest in front of Sulla's feet. Sulla's eyes bulged in avaricious excitement. Then the chest moved, and his excitement soured into utter confusion. Lupus' men unlocked the chest and pulled out a bounded, groaning man in black with a bag placed over his head.

As he emerged, horrid fumes of stench shot out from the chest, fouling the immediate vicinity. Sulla's retainers groaned, covering their nose with their limbs and pieces of cloth. Even Sulla winced at their odor. The two men who brought the man out of the chest were fighting hard not to gag.

Lupus whispered in Vitus' ear, " _I guess that bastard had shit himself on the way over here_."

Sulla reddened, " _What is the meaning of this?! What foul creature have you bring brought before me_?!"

Lupus swaggered forward, arms extended as if an actor on stage, " _Oh, I brought the most wonderful creature as a gift. A beast that skulks in the shadow and strikes with his pack_." He took off the hood of the bound man. " _Before you is Quintus Paetus, the black assassin who made an attempt on my life during the Bloody Ides_." And he boldly raised the mask of the Arcani in the air and smirked.

Vitus shivered as he recalled how deep Sulla cackled at the sight.

Sulla ordered the filthy assassin to be seized by the senatorial soldiers and taken away to the Tullianum, one of the oldest prisons in Rome. Sulla invited both Julius and Scipio into his home and into his triclinium to debrief the young men.

" _Athens, eh_?" Sulla spoke, holding his cup out to be filled to the brim by his slave.

" _Correct_ ," Vitus affirmed, _"I cannot believe such mention from this Quintus and Murio's locations stand mere coincidence_."

" _Good, for I would have labeled you a fool if you stood otherwise_ ," Sulla grunted. " _Athens… to hide in that ruin of a once great city_."

Lupus already downed the wine poured for him and spoke up, in what Vitus imagined to be a bitter tone, " _Indeed, no thanks to you, Sulla_."

Years ago, during the First Mithridatic War, the genocidal Mithridates was ravaging Asia Minor and the Greek country to ward off Roman expansion. The Pontic King executed virtually all Romans and Italians that were not fortunate enough to flee. One of the leaders from the Anti-Roman party in Athens stirred up dissent and a revolt erupted in Southern Greece. Fortunately, Sulla arrived with his army to fight off Mithridates and landed in Greece, and his first stop was at the revolting city of Athens. The siege lasted a year, but they broke through and brutally put down the revolt and razed the city. Thousands were massacred and pieces of art and history that were made during the height of Athenian power centuries ago, were lost forever.

Sulla looked to Lupus, " _Those rebellious philosophers, I taught them a valuable lesson about rising up against Rome. And now they harbor criminals_?"

" _With respect, Sulla_ ," Vitus muttered cautiously. " _If the Roman citizens were unaware of these assassins, then I might doubt that the Greeks were aware of them_."

" _That's what all men say until their blood is shed, and flesh torn, then they sing truer than any songbird, remember that, Vitus_ ," Sulla pointed to him with a raised brow.

" _Right… I shall_."

Sulla's eyes fell on Vitus, seemingly filled with a distrustful nature. The Dictator turned to the drinking Lupus, " _Scipio Lupus, what did Germanicus tell you of the Arcani_?"

Vitus inhaled through his nose sharply. Lupus abruptly looked over at Vitus with narrowed eyes, " _The fuck is an Arcani? What are you not telling me, Julius_?"

Sulla stared at Scipio for a moment. " _I see, do not worry about Vitus, allow me to inform you since you have captured one._ " Vitus could breathe easier.

Vitus sat in a stool, listening to Sulla telling Lupus the tale that he himself heard just a week ago. It was quite interesting watching the range of emotions rising in the Scipio's face, especially learning that it was his ancestors that formed these archaic assassins. Once Sulla finished, Lupus poured himself another cup of wine.

" _Africanus? The Gracchi? Gods_ …" he remarked in disbelief. " _The same men who butchered my clan are descended from the ones who were elevated by us. Am I hearing this correctly, Sulla_?"

" _Indeed, you are_."

" _But why? Why did they betray Rome if they were once so loyal_?"

Sulla stared at him with that scowl of his, " _Such matters are confidential_."

Lupus gave him a scowl of his own, " _If Germanicus and I are to risk our lives and that of our men, we should be privy to all information concerning this phantom adversary. Do you not agree?_ "

" _Mind your tongue in my presence_ ," he sneered firmly.

Lupus continued to stare at him for a moment, before finally relenting, " _Yes, Dictator_."

Sulla's scowl was so sharp that it could wound a god, " _You have fire in your soul, Scipio Lupus, but I have seen wickeder infernos in the eyes of men with twice the merit of you. Do not forget that, pup._ "

Lupus' hand was clenching tight on his goblet, Vitus thought he was going to throw it at the dictator. But Lupus just sucked his teeth with annoyed nods, " _Apologies… may I beseech forgiveness from you_?"

Sulla's scowl lifted, " _Granted_."

Lupus sighed, then drank from his cup. " _So… Athens… the Brutii must have men there to apprehend the Arcani_."

" _I would believe so, but most likely a garrison, not a standing army_." Vitus answered.

" _Vitus is right_ ," Sulla validated. " _Most of the Brutii forces are in Anatolia with Murena and Lucullus, keeping the Pontians at bay. No, they wouldn't have an army in Greece. At last report, Mithridates is launching a new offensive and pushing hard against Lucullus, Murena, and the Brutii. Such makes it even more imperative that an army is sent to Greece, I shall not have the enemy in the rear with Mithridates in the front_."

" _And if the Arcani are as trained as they were during the Bloody Ides, then do you believe that the Town Watch, a militia, can track these men down and arrest them_?"

" _Hmm, guess not_." Lupus replied.

Sulla rose from his seat, " _I shall send word to Lucullus and Murena to assist you in any manner. If they can spare men, then they shall aid you. If the Arcani are this close to Pontus_ …"

Vitus mused, " _Could they have acted on Mithridates' orders_?"

" _No_ ," Sulla growled, it was long and filled with gravel. He downed his wine in what seemed to be out of spite. " _Their pride is for all things Roman. They shall not dare stoop as low as selling themselves to a foreign king_."

" _And yet they dare strike down many noble families of Rome_ ," Lupus countered. " _I shall not rule it past them_."

" _Mithridates has done something similar in the past, the Vespers_." Vitus said. " _He had many Romans murdered within a short time frame. What if the Arcani took inspiration from him_?"

" _Impossible, they rely too much on all things Roman. Anything less is an affront to pride. They cannot have allied with Mithridates_."

" _So you say_ …" Vitus heard Lupus mutter under his breath.

" _Vitus, you must head to Athens as swiftly as possible with the Twenty-Eighth,"_ Sulla told him. " _It shall be a long march, but you need to move there with haste_."

" _Oh, he shall not travel by land, my fleet shall accompany him against these bastards_ ," Lupus boasted.

" _You shall dedicate your forces against the Arcani_?"

" _I shall, Sulla. No one strikes the Wolf and expects to survive its fangs_."

" _And my legion shall grind them beneath the heel for the injustices they have delivered upon us, Julii_ ," Germanicus said surely.

He shook his head with a grin, " _You vigorous youths… if only I was young again_ …"

Vitus finally remembered, " _Oh! Sulla, I forgot to mention about the Arcani prisoner. He mentioned of a 'Vipera' and 'Taurus'. We believe these two are the leaders of the Arcani. Are these men familiar_?"

Sulla's expression did not change, " _Only Vipera, his name brings faint recollection_."

" _Who is the man_?"

" _I do not recall his true name, all men of the Arcani went under false identities. He was among the high-ranking men as I recall. Very good friends with the Captain of the Arcani at the time, Fornax_."

" _The Captain_?" Lupus asked.

" _What happened to Fornax_?" Vitus said.

" _He died, some time ago_." Sulla looked to his wine cup. " _You two have your mission. Go to Athens, search for the Arcani presence and destroy them. Their leaders, Vipera and Taurus, bring to me alive, if feasible. I shall parade them across the streets of Rome before I kill them_."

Vitus and Gaius gave each other a look. Sulla said to them, " _Do you understand?_ "

" _We do_ ," they said as one.

" _Good. And Vitus, I have someone I desire you to meet_." Sulla turned to his slave, " _Bring him in._ "

The slave opened the door, a man in purple senatorial armor walked inside the room. He was of average height and his face seemed to indicate his age to be in his early to mid-30s. He had a shifty smirk on his face as he stood in front of Vitus.

Sulla placed his hand on the man's shoulder, " _Julius Germanicus, the man who stands before you is Flavius Rupilius. I recalled him from Anatolia and he just arrived today. He is to be your_ _tribunus laticlavius_."

Vitus blinked incredulously. This man was to be _his_ second-in-command?

Rupilius looked down on Vitus for a moment, the corner of his mouth rose even more, " _His Excellence had told me that you were young, but I did not expect you to be_ _ **this**_ _young_." His voice sounded pleasant. " _I heard of your deeds, Germanicus, and I am honored to serve under you._ " Yet something was in his eyes, something that caused Vitus to worry.

" _Gratitude, Flavius Rupilius_ ," Vitus said, trying to mask his uneasiness. He turned to Sulla, " _You are giving me a tribune_?"

" _I am. Rupilius has served under me against Mithridates and Marius Minor. He holds talents in warfare and shall be of use to you. Him and his men_."

" ' _His men_ '?"

" _Your legion is currently understrength, correct? About a thousand at last count. Instead of worrying about mercenaries, allow me to bestow—temporarily—a thousand legionaries of the Senatorial Legions_."

" _You're giving me a thousand soldiers_?"

" _You cannot face the enemy with a weakened legion. These men are veterans of my campaign and Rupilius shall aid you in leading them. Oh Vitus, do not give me that look. This is non-negotiable. You shall count yourself fortunate that I even do this. Now your legion is at full strength_."

Sulla was smirking now. Vitus turned to Rupilius; he too was smiling. For a brief second, Vitus sucked his teeth, then unearthed a smile, " _Gratitude for your wisdom and generosity, Sulla. These men shall be put to good use_."

" _Oh, I know they shall, you are leading them_." Sulla looked to Lupus, " _Scipio Lupus, I shall not forget your assistance in aiding the Republic. Are you well supplied_?"

" _I already have my supplies ready; we shall be in the port of Arretium within three days_."

" _Very good. You young men are the future of the Republic, you do me proud. And if you desire to_ _ **have**_ _a future, then you both shall not fail me_."

* * *

Proculus strained to raise his upper body up, "Vitus, I understand but… travelling with a Scipio, and into the unknowns of Greece for these assassins. Are you certain on this?"

Truthfully? He wasn't completely sure. But he had to, he kept telling himself he had to. Who else could be? "I am, Proculus."

"Do not lie to me on this matter."

"I believe that this is the way."

Proculus' gaze lingered on him before he reclined back on the cot, "So, when do you leave?"

"We leave today, I had sent word along with Rupilius to have the Twenty-Eighth mobilized."

"Yes, I remember conversing with him on the subject," Appia mentioned in a displeased tone.

Vitus' eyes narrowed, "Rupilius. Do you know of the family, Appia?"

"I do, my father was a patron to their family. From recollection, my father labeled this Flavius Rupilius as a conniving man who served Sulla loyally during his March on Rome. He is an ambitious man and shall do what he needs to succeed, these are the kind of people that Sulla attracts. Be wary of such a man, Vitus."

"I see, gratitude." _Great… another person for me to divide my mind upon…_

Proculus spoke up, "How many men again did Sulla lease to you again?"

"A thousand. Exactly."

"Which brings you up to?"

"With these additions and some mercenaries, and about twenty returning wounded… we rounded up to about 4,500."

The couple frowned at the number, "But your legion is not at full strength."

"We faced worse odds when we were in Samarobriva, Proculus."

"Indeed, and such nearly got us all killed, if I recall."

"By Mars…" Appia exclaimed softly, "The Germanians committed that much damage upon you?

"The Suebi were ferocious fighters. We suffered many casualties, but we inflicted more upon them, with interest."

"And so, Sulla gives you a thousand men to swell the ranks of the Twenty-Eighth, and with that, several officers loyal to him and to observe your every move."

Vitus chuckled weakly, "You hit the truth with the precision of an arrow, Appia."

* * *

He had entered Arretium an hour ago and was immediately set upon by his centurions with dozens of questions about these senatorial soldiers that were now attached to their legion.

" _Pardon, Legatus, but the men are curious. Rumors have reached them that we are to war with the black assassins who butchered the Julii_."

" _That is correct, Centurion_."

The centurions blinked in disbelief. " _Understood, Legatus… but do these assassins have an army? We understand these orders came from the Dictator, but it seems as if we are using a hammer to slay ants. They cannot number that many_."

Germanicus stopped walking, he spun around. " _I know. But a week ago, no one even knew they existed, and they have caused irreparable damage to the Republic We hold no idea what these men are truly capable of. So, at this point, a hammer may be the right tool to kill these bastards. Do you understand_?"

The centurions stood to attention and responded, " _Yes, Legatus._ " The one who questioned him said, " _Apologies, Legatus, I did not mean to question_ —"

" _Be at ease, Libo. I understand your questions. Pass what I told you around with the other centurions. Any other questions_?"

" _Just mine, Legatus."_ It came from _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus who walked up to them. By the look of his face, he wasn't happy. " _Apologize if my tone or words reflect unruliness, but I must ask as Primus Pilus… are_ _ **these**_ _men, necessary for the Legion_?" he pointed to the purple-cladded soldiers among the red-armored soldiers.

Vitus wanted to visibly sigh, but he had to maintain the mask. " _These men have been gifted to us by the Dictator to replenish our forces_."

" _I understand, Legatus. But the cohesion of the men with the newcomers are_ …"

" _They will have to make do, Primus Pilus. We are to embark immediately. Aelianus, you are the rock of this Legion, you must do what you can to forge unity between the Sulla's soldiers and ours_."

Centurion Libo spoke up, " _How many ships are to be prepared for us, Legatus_?"

" _Scipio Lupus, spoke upon sixty, we divided each cohort upon one_."

" _Also, Legatus, the men speak of ominous things as they are to embark on the sails to cross the waters. And that we are to fight these shadowy figures who butchered many Julii. These rumors are worsened by the fact it is the Scipii who takes us. The men are… not in the right spirits_."

He inhaled and exhaled through his nose. He understood their fear. " _Gratitude for the words, … . I know the men hold fear, but it is your jobs as centurions of the Twenty-Eighth to keep the men in check. The Legio XXVIII have faced the might of Gallia, Germania, and Britannia. What are masked men who skulk in the shadows to the fury of barbarians, eh_?"

Some of the centurions bowed their head in shame. Centurion Libo bowed his as well, " _A thousand apologies, Legatus. I didn't mean… I was only speaking for the men and_ …"

" _Raise your head, Libo_ ," Vitus said gently. " _I know what you meant. All of you, listen with care. You must fetch your optiones and tessararii and remind your men of what I have told you. Remind them of their pride in being men of the Twenty-Eighth, and if such does not work, then shame them into courage_."

The centurions saluted proudly, " _Yes, sir_!"

Before the officers could leave, the new tribune of the Twenty-Eighth, Rupilius, came to Vitus. And he brought two men, no, they looked like boys, even younger than Vitus. The two of them wore their purple armor that fitted their small bodies perfectly.

" _Tribune, who are these boys_?" Aelianus asked.

" _Not boys, but men. They have donned the toga virilis and have become men. Both of them are sixteen and are of equestrian status. I shall have them placed as officers of the cavalry, with your permission, Legatus."_

Looking at them, they both wore eager expressions on their faces.

Vitus eyed the young "men", " _And these… men, their families owe their status to Sulla, correct_?"

" _Indeed. His Most Excellence always rewards his friends and their families. These men have promising careers in the Cursus Honorum, to start young, they need military experience. Sulla had hoped that they can gain such experience with you_."

Vitus was fighting back a curse. More politics? He was here to kill Rome's enemies, not advance careers. And yet, in the Roman military, those two things were often synonymous. Vitus understood it, but he didn't like it, at least this aspect. Military experience was truly the most common and distinguishable way for a nobleman to advance in the hierarchical society of Rome. Yet Vitus' father, Lucius, created the Twenty-Eighth Legion to be devoid of politics, to be a legion whose sole purpose was to kill the enemies of Rome. If one wanted political advancement, they could join the other Julii legions under other generals, but not the Twenty-Eighth. They were elite.

He nodded quickly to erase the curse that might slip his tongue. " _Sure! Sure! Fine, they can join my bodyguard retinue. I shall do that before I give them a command_."

Rupilius smiled and nodded, patting the backs of the young men before their new general.

Vitus looked down on them, masking his annoyance. He recalled a time when he was sixteen and eager to go on a campaign himself. " _Who are you_?" he asked the two.

" _I stand Gnaeus Domitius_."

" _And I stand Titus Labienus_."

" _Well, Gnaeus Domitius and Titus Labienus, as long as you are with me, do not expect some cushy experience where you are exempt from fighting. This is the Twenty-Eighth, our specialty is killing and dealing in death to the Republic's enemies. If you ride with me, then you ride in the front and in the thick of it. Do you understand? I cannot guarantee your safety_."

Domitius saluted proudly, " _I understand, Legatus_!"

Labienus gave a grin and played with his hands, " _As long as we get to fight, then I am fine, Legatus._ "

 _Hmm, eager… just as I was…_ Vitus couldn't tell that a smirk had crept up on his own mouth. "Good, do you have your own mounts?"

" _Yes, Legatus_!" both of them said.

" _Good, get your mounts situated with the stablemaster and familiarize yourself with the quartermaster. Centurion Libo, escort these two equestrians, will you_?"

" _At once, Legatus_!"

Vitus turned back to his new tribune, " _Rupilius, you know the standing of experience with these men of the Senate, do you not_?"

" _I do, Legatus_."

" _Then assist Primus Pilus Aelianus here, in placing the veterans into the appropriate cohort. The ones with longest degrees of experience shall be in the Second Cohort, then the Third, and so on."_

" _Apologies, Legatus,"_ said Rupilius _, "Would it not benefit the experienced men to be in the First Cohort than the Second_?"

Vitus could feel the stares from his centurions behind him, who were looking upon Rupilius with contempt. " _The First Cohort of the Legio XXVIII are the most distinguished soldiers we have and the largest cohort. You must be from the Second Cohort before you may join the ranks of the First_."

Rupilius chuckled, to Vitus it seemed almost smugly, " _I understand, Germanicus. But some of these soldiers were with Sulla against hundreds of thousands Pontians and fought with him during the wars against Marius' foolish son. They deserve the great privilege of fighting in the First Cohort_."

" _As I said,_ _ **all**_ _men must be in the Second before they advance to the First. No matter what_."

Rupilius' smile dissipated, " _The men shall not like that, Germanicus_." Vitus' eyes then narrowed.

Looking back on it now, Vitus now knew what Appia meant about Rupilius.

Germanicus spoke slowly, " _Tribune, I do not deny the courage and skill you say that these men have. I do not deny that. But I must witness their valor firsthand before I say they can advance, Tribune. They have served under Sulla, and now they shall serve under me. And I am not like Sulla, Tribune. They are soldiers of the Republic and shall act like soldiers of the Republic; soldiers under the Republic follow orders of their superior. Any flagrant act of insubordination shall be meted out with discipline and punishment. Do you understand, Tribune_?"

He nodded his head slowly, " _I do, Legatus_."

" _Your most experienced men shall be placed in the Second Cohort, until I witness their valor firsthand. Am I understood, Tribune_?"

" _You are, Legatus_."

" _Now, go with the Primus Pilus, and sort out the men. You are dismissed_."

" _Yes, Legatus_." Rupilius' salute was slower than expected, possibly defiant. But he gave Vitus a nod and spun around to fulfill his order.

As Aelianus passed by Vitus, both men locked eyes, and Aelianus gave him a short, but firm nod.

Vitus exhaled and rustled his red hair. _What a_ _ **lovely**_ _way to begin my relationship with my Tribune…_

He overheard the squabbles of his men over these new men from the senate.

He wanted to tell them that he didn't have a choice, that it was forced upon him by Sulla, but what good would that do? It would only increase tension with the Julii soldiers and these "unwantedly posh" senate soldiers, something that he didn't need. The only thing that irritated Vitus in this deal was that he didn't have time to drill and train these new men with his veterans. He didn't know their combat capability, and close-order drills between these two types of soldiers could also build cohesion and trust. But there was no time for that, they had to move now. He would be praying to Mars that they would all act like soldiers and turn their aggression and attitude towards the enemy.

* * *

"I would not fret upon such matters, Vitus," Proculus told him. "Soldiers often exhibit conflict with another unit."

"I know they do, but this is different. They are an attachment to our unit and are making demands of positions of prestige as if they were always a part of the Twenty-Eighth."

"Father made the Twenty-Eighth legendary, you could forgive these new men for being eager."

"I guess… hopefully battle drives the heart of them all to a single purpose. We are all Romans; we should not wage war among one another. Our focus are these assassins in black."

Appia played with her hands, she gave him a sorrowful look, "My father was always weary of Sulla after he fell out with Marius. Sulla possesses an appetite which rivals that of Saturn. What man would violate sacred Roman Law and actually march his army on Rome? **Twice.** Did you truly have to be aligned with such a man, Vitus?"

"Believe me, Appia, I had no notion of working with him…" he then sighed, "Or I guess in this case, working under him. I only came to Rome to get Titia, **he** summoned me and dragged us all into this quagmire of blood and intrigue."

"Speaking of, where is your wife, Vitus?" Proculus asked.

He rubbed his jaw, "Last I saw her, she was in the hallway to the triclinium."

"She has recovered, somewhat, from her ordeal from a week ago," Appia muttered.

"I have seen such. I was worried, and still am."

"How did she take the news upon your departure?" Proculus asked.

Vitus scratched the back of his neck, "She was… uh, not happy when I told her…"

* * *

" _Unbelievable!"_

" _Titia I—"_

" _For what purpose do you do this to me!"_

" _It is not my intent to leave you."_

" _And yet you do! Gods, Vitus!_ She gritted her teeth and started to tremble, _"Every time you return, every_ _ **damn**_ _time, you have to leave on a mission! I cannot fathom this. We cannot even spend two_ _ **full**_ _days together before you must leave for danger!_

He was quite surprised how animated she had been. It seemed as if she was back to her former lively self. And yet, She sat down beside a stone pillar, her hair fell down obscuring her face. He sat down next to her, he was tempted to put his arm around her but rescinded the idea.

" _Titia, four men stole into the night and nearly murdered us. Proculus was wounded, and Herennius was killed. And now you, who was always a scrapper with the other girls, now have the blood of death forever stained on your hands_. _I am a soldier. By marrying me, you have married the Republic; wherever I go, I leave to preserve and protect the citizens of Rome. Especially you. But I… I do not know what I am exactly doing. It's not like venturing north and eventually go hunting for marauding barbarians. This enemy hides within the shadow and strike when you least expect. I cannot fathom how to fight that, and that unknown… is frightening_."

" _And yet you go anyway... to Greece…"_

" _Because I must_."

" _Because it's your duty_."

He tightened his lips. He wanted to instantly reply 'yes', but the way she said that, was she testing him for a response?

" _I do not know how I do this, Vitus. I am always loud, and I spit down on those who hurt me or my family. They are not worthy of me plucking a hair from my skull to fret about. At least that's what I desire to believe and what I desire others to think. But_ …" her hands came together, and her fingers entwined into a prayer motion.

She had a slight tremble to her with a soft, quivering voice, " _I am afraid. Not for you, nor my family… but for me. I cannot explain, I know I should worry for you. You are my husband and a good man. But that is not what I truly fear. I have been living in fear for an entire year. Ever since we were married a year ago, so much has happened. You going off to war, Sulla's proscribed killings, the fear of my family name being etched on his death list for any minute reason, the plague, my father's health and mother's safety, and now assassins that appear in the dark and slaughter those of aristocratic blood. And I killed someone… He tried to kill you and Proculus, I was in the right. But did you recall how he choked on his blood; how easy it came out of him…? I can't… I can't do this, Vitus. I'm sixteen. I often fancied leaving girlhood to embrace womanhood; and yet so much death, chaos, and blood follows it. But wait! I... I fear for my father, my mother, you, Proculus, everyone… See?! I cannot even determine how I truly feel? How would I…_ "

He placed a hand on her shoulder, " _I never told you what happened when I was sixteen, did I_?"

She looked at him timidly, " _No, I don't believe you have_."

He started looking at his hands as he played with them. " _When I was sixteen, I was pretty excited donning the toga virilus,"_ he started to chuckle, " _I was short back then, well, shorter if you could believe that, and was always mocked by my height and strange eyes. Then, the Senate's legions were surrounded by a coalition of Briton, Germanic, and Gallic barbarians at Samarobriva; my father was chosen by the Senate to rescue the trapped legions. You could imagine how excited I was to be on a military campaign, to be so young and to do my duty as a citizen by fighting the enemies of Rome. But I would never know how arduous one campaign could have been_ …

" _A week into the campaign, I was mortally wounded by an arrow while scouting. Barbarians came in and slaughtered all my scouts and would have slain me if not for Oroles_."

" _Who_?"

" _Oroles. He was a Thracian prince who served as Captain of the Thracian Auxiliary under my father. He was… a man that held no equal. Fierce, profound, loyal, cunning, a wonderful friend, and a mentor to me_." He unfastened his swordbelt and handed Titia his sword. " _This was his personal weapon._ "

Her eyes were large, " _This was the same weapon that I used that night_ …"

" _It was, and it belonged to him… He taught me to be a better fighter, and a better leader, and a better person. I saw though his eyes a world that is unfamiliar to that of Rome. I saw understanding of a flawed man, humbled by his failures_."

" _And… he died?"_

" _He died. We were at Samarobriva, our final battle against the Britons and he was mortally wounded in the fighting. Once it was over, he had enough strength left to speak to Proculus and I. As he laid dying, he told us his last words, and Titia, I shall never forget this. He told us of never living with regret and that he freed himself of one regret to_ 'H _ave died without bettering the two of us.' Then, his life faded in the snow, and I wept over his corpse. A man who was as a second father to me had died. That whole campaign was a whirlwind of hardships. I was wounded by a Germanic arrow, I killed my first man by slitting his throat on my father's orders, I then tried to kill my own father out of anger for what he commanded me to do, I experienced my first battle and was nearly killed, we were betrayed by a barbarian we foolishly believed was our ally, the Twenty-Eighth was near destroyed in an ambush, we rescued the Praetor at Samarobriva just to get surrounded by another barbarian army, we committed sacrilege by surrendering to barbarians just to abscond with the Praetor and fight another day… and my mentor was killed, as was my own father. And I had to bury them both._ _ **All**_ _of this happened, within a span of two months. In my sixteenth year._ "

No words came out of his mouth. His physical eyes were staring at the tile between his two feet; his mental eyes were looking back in the past, reliving every horror that he witnessed on that damn campaign. No words came out of Titia's mouth; Vitus could tell that she was looking on at him with widened eyes.

" _Indeed, being sixteen unlocks the gateway to adulthood, yet adulthood brings its own roads of problems and horrors, doesn't it? Such an acrid taste of fear is familiar… There were times on that campaign where I broke down and cried, everything was so overbearing that I feared the Gods were tormenting me with madness. But I stayed sane, do you seek to discover the secret of how, Titia_?"

She didn't respond. " _I had companions to converse with," Vitus continued. "My brother, Oroles, Ligadis, Antonius, Cossutius, Aelianus, Ardunas, and my Father. I spoke to them of my fears, and that taste of terror began to dissipate—not completely but began to slowly dissipate. You are a strong woman; I've seen that strength in you. But if you choose to contain all of your pain and fear… then… I don't know what will happen to you, but I do know that you shall lose yourself… the you that makes you, well, you._ " He groaned, " _Damn it, these talks are not my specialty. What I'm saying is, you have people close to you that have experienced a tumultuous year in their lives. Break words with them and hear their stories, embrace their wisdom, and learn to live with it than be consumed by it_."

Her eyes were now staring at the opposite wall, her lips didn't even twitch. Vitus stayed their two minutes with her in silence, trying to conceive of more words to say, but none came to mind. Well, none except, " _Titia, I leave for the Legion today, I… I pray that when I return, you shall be recovered from this ordeal. Now… I leave_."

He stood to his feet and turned away. Her hand suddenly seized the back of his crimson cape, but she did not look up at him. Her voice was soft, " _No, Vitus, tarry a while_ …"

Vitus nodded silently, placed his back against the wall and slid back down next to her. Their shoulders were touching, both of their eyes staring at the opposite wall. Vitus stretched his arm and placed his arm around her shoulder. He didn't know if such was appropriate, he just felt it may be something he had to do. Did she mind? A few moments later, Titia rested her head on his shoulder; her eyes were still focused on the opposite wall. Both of them were lost in their own thoughts, but both of them were together in body and soul.

* * *

"We had quite a talk, Titia and I," Vitus told them. "It lifts the heart to know that she is speaking more."

"Yes, it is," said Appia, "What happened in Genua, was…" she glanced at her husband's wound, "…harrowing. To do what she did and live with that, I cannot begin to fathom. I had to speak to her for days to open up to form proper sentences."

"Gratitude, Appia, the fruits of your labor have ripened… I ask you for one more venture of my selfishness. Appia, as I leave, do look after Titia for me. Please care for her."

She nodded firmly, "Of course, Vitus. She is a sister by family now. I shall."

"One last thing, have there been any more news of further Julii deaths?"

"Not quite. Publius and his son, Hostus, were attacked in Osca, but they survived," Proculus told him, "yet not without wounds. The letter was written by Publius' wife. Hostus was blinded in both eyes by the attack, and Publius was gravely wounded and needed to have his arm amputated. We now wait to see if he shall survive."

Vitus' fist tightened, "Publius… Hostus… they yet draw breath, but to live in such crippled conditions…"

"I know…"

"From Osca, huh? If we receive word from Hispania… then what of Sertorius, does he yet live?"

"Vitus, we hold no word about Sertorius," Appia said concernedly.

"How? He's the governor of the peninsula! If he yet lives or is… dead, then we should have heard about it by now."

"We know, Vitus," Proculus said, "We have no certainty of what happened to him."

Vitus exhaled. "I see… What of the others, are they all arriving to Arretium, as I requested?"

"They are. We already have two families on the move at this moment. They shall arrive once you depart."

"Good, at this critical junction, the ones who are mightily true to us are ourselves. If we can, let us get those in Rome as well, especially Tiberias."

"We shall, Vitus, do not worry."

"Do you plan to leave now?" Appia asked.

"I do. We need to get the Legion moving as soon as possible. I have already spoken to Mother, and… tried to see Decius, but he is still locked in his chambers. I desired to visit the both of you before I left."

She stood from her seat, "Gratitude for your visit, Vitus. Do be careful. You hear this all the time, but still…"

"I shall. Gratitude, Appia." They both hugged one another.

Vitus looked down to Proculus, "I pray for speedy recovery."

He chuckled once, "You are not the only one, Vitus. Take care, now. Bring the Fury of the Julii down upon their miserable heads."

"That, I intend to do. You have my word, Proculus."

Both clasped one another's hands firmly.

* * *

The gates of the Arretium port had opened up to the Twenty-Eighth. Vitus was the first one through, leading his men through the throngs of citizens who suddenly gathered to witness the unexpected approach of the most famous Julii legion. The citizens cheered at them with pride, applauding them as they walked by. Several legionaries waved and whistled at the children and the women respectively, until their centurions told them to knock it off. But Vitus was stone-faced, his mind preoccupied on his mission and the unknowns that he could possibly face, and the chance that he may not return.

In the dockyard, the sight of the lands of Dalmatia that was separated by the Adriatic Sea was obscured by blue sails of many ships of the Scipii. The ships were already anchored by the piers with the marines and slaves walking up and down the gangplank to make the vessels ready for the incoming infantry. A good-sized crowd had already gathered near the harbor; they were gossiping to one another about these "blue invaders" residing in their port. The sea gust blew gracefully into the sails, flapping the mouth of the Blue Wolf, almost as if it was cackling.

The harbormaster made his way through the onlookers and jostled towards Vitus with an expression of worry. "Legatus, I have done as you commanded. Our dockyards are now open to these Scipii sails."

"You have done well, harbormaster. Yet you seem troubled."

He looked over his shoulder nervously, "It's just I never expected these Blues to be hear, especially this 'Wolf on the Waves'. It is minor, but it is strange nonetheless."

"I understand, but they are the only fleet that can transport the Twenty-Eighth on such short notice. We need them." He looked to his new Tribune, "Rupilius! Notify the Centurions to get the slaves and the men to settle our provisions unto the ship. Harbormaster, I already paid you and your men for the docking service, now assist my legion in docking their provisions."

"I understand," both men said.

But before the harbormaster left, Vitus asked, "Tell me, have you seen Scipio Lupus? Strong looking, black-bearded, carries a vulgarian streak?"

"Hard to miss him. They arrived an hour ago and he was ordering me around like this was his city! Hmph, the nerve of that animal! Anyway, he is on his flagship, that quinquereme, the only one of its kind in the fleet."

The quinquereme was a strong ocean blue and was the largest vessel of the fleet. Scores of long oars were dripping low on each side and resting in the waters, making the galley look as if it was a giant wooden centipede. The thick sails had the same insignia that the other sails had—a blue wolf's head on the white sail. Yet upon closer inspection, Vitus noticed something different. Underneath the wolf's head were blue lines that seemed to resemble waves. Vitus sucked his teeth and nodded his head slowly. He got what it meant, "The Wolf on the Waves"… of course… It seemed weird how the one of the most fearsome Roman admirals in the Republic relied on lighter galleys in his fleet.

"Julius! There you are!"

He looked up to see the admiral himself waving from his flagship, leaning over the side of his ship with that wolfish smile of his. He motioned for him to come aboard, "Get your Red ass up here!"

Vitus relented with a sigh and dismounted Romulus. "Rupilius," he said to his second-in-command, "Summon _Primus Pilus_ Aelianus and have the Legion prepared to board. Start with the baggage train and the slaves first."

"As you command, Legatus."

He made his way up the gangplank; Lupus' flagship was busy with activity of sailors and marines docking supplies and tying up knots and checking the sails. Lupus was wearing his battle armor, which bore striking similarity to Vitus's own. The steel in the armor was the same smoky grey, but Lupus' cape was blue; in fact, wherever Vitus had red in his armor and clothing, Lupus had blue in his instead.

"Welcome aboard to the Howling Sails, _Legatus!_ " Lupus announced with open arms.

"Gratitude for having us on your vessel, Admiral."

Lupus extended his arm out to the port, encouraging Vitus to gaze upon the scrambling of the Twenty-Eighth to load their supplies and men onto the fleet. "So, these are the men of the Twenty-Eighth, eh? You have a great stock, Germanicus. I see pride in their faces, I recognize the same in my marines. You are fortunate to have good soldiers."

"Gratitude, Lupus. I cannot have risen as high as I have without them."

"And you are humble as well. Bless the Gods you Julii are not pompous like the Brutii."

"Of course, we aren't. Do we look like we were descended from jackasses?"

That got a good laugh from Lupus, in which Vitus laughed in kind.

"Ready for this bold undertaking, Julius?"

"I am, Scipio, I just hope that you are as well."

Lupus laughed, "I am always ready for a new adventure."

"You claim this adventure? This is a mission of importance and vengeance, not adventure. This is not entertainment, Lupus."

Lupus shook his head with several clicks of his tongue, "Oh Germanicus, you have much to learn. Every mission, voyage, assignment, and battle is an adventure whilst sailing on the waves. For better or worse, it is an adventure that you shall always recall. Now this hunt to track down a group of assassins in Greece with a war several miles away, **that** is an adventure. One that I shall tell my children."

"But first, we need to make children," came the sultry accent of Suba from behind them. She wrapped her dark arms lovingly around Lupus' chest. Lupus turned around and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Well, I wouldn't mind making children on this voyage, but I need you to be in peak fighting condition."

"Who do you think I am? Some fragile Roman girl?" she laughed.

"Of course not," he firmly grasped her thigh, then moved up to her rear end. She breathed exotically. Lupus continued, "Roman women do not have legs or an ass like you do!"

"Uh, do I need to get off this ship?" Vitus asked, his eyes focusing on the water below.

Suba giggled, "You do not have to, Germanicus, you can always watch."

"That… is not my thing."

"Well we could make it your thing," Lupus winked.

Vitus groaned; the couple laughed at his expense. "How long should this voyage take us?" the Julius asked.

"If the weather permits, then a week. Week and a half if not."

"That's not _too_ bad."

"It's the best we can do, hopefully you sacrificed a bull to Neptune and Venilia for a safe and quick voyage."

"I just pray to the Gods, that the Arcani are still there when we arrive."

"As do I, be much easier to kill them all if they're in one place. It would be glorious if they are at sea. I could crush them all and send them into the murky abyss below."

"Such would be easier, I suppose."

"Have you ever stood among the waves, Germanicus?" Suba asked with a smile.

"Once or twice."

"They make you feel alive, like you are exploring a frontier never sought to be taken by Man."

Lupus wrapped his big arm around her, "My woman speaks truth, especially amongst the seas in Greece, blue as the sky above us."

Vitus leaned over to the side of the ship, his eyes looking out into the distance. "Men believe the sea is something not to tread upon, especially if we voyage into the unknown."

"The world is a large place, and superstition shall not hold me back in voyaging."

"So, you fear nothing, Lupus?"

"Every man fears something. Even I, but what it is, I shall never divulge unto you."

"Such is fair. I would not expect such wisdom from the 'Wolf on the Waves'."

"There is more to me than my appearance and behavior, as there is more to you than your bizarre eyes and stature."

"There has to be," Vitus began to smirk, "for I am to embark on a perilous journey with a Scipio."

Lupus smirked back, "And I am embarking with a Julius." He looked to the water, "If there is one consequence that has arisen from the Arcani's attack, it is that it has united our families into a singular purpose."

"And let that purpose cry 'Vengeance', as we wreak furious reckoning on these ancient assassins."

"Oh, how grand that shall be."

* * *

 **Another chapter that I have been wanting to publishing for a while, but time has not been my friend recently.**

 **I know there was a lot of flashbacking, but I hope I did it well enough and the format was easy to understand.**

 **Also, I added another real life Roman to the story, bonus points if you know who it is.  
**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **-Kanuro5**


	11. The Green Centaur

**Notes from Kanuro5:** Not much to say for this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

 **XI**

 **The Green Centaur**

"Again!"

Titus Labienus growled as he lunged forward. He swung his sword twice at his opponent, Gnaeus Domitius. Domitius took half a step back and blocked the attacks. Labienus was putting more weight behind his swings, but Domitius could see all of the attacks coming. The ship went over a particularly large wave, the sudden movement off-balanced Labienus and he went skirting forward. Domitius did a flawless half-spin and smacked Labienus hard on his thigh with the flat side of the sword.

Labienus grunted in pain and fell to the deck. Some of the Scipii marines and sailors were wagering on the sparring, many of them were chuckling and laughing at the misfortune of the young man. All Vitus could do was sigh, "First point, to Domitius."

The Twenty-Eighth Legion had been at sea for six days on their way towards Athens. Neptune had favored their cause, for the wind has been with their sails the whole trip and the water was serene; so much so that they would arrive a day ahead of their perceived schedule. Vitus and his fellow officers were stationed on Lupus' flagship, his hexareme, during the voyage. Vitus spent his time on the ship by going over the strategy in his head on how to capture the Arcani in the city and what to do if they engage them, he also took the time to get to know his new Tribune better, but the most engaging time passer was his training of his news wards: Gnaeus Domitius and Titus Labienus.

When he told the two sixteen-year-olds that their experiences with his legion wouldn't be a cushy means to elevate their careers, they responded with youthful eagerness. Youthful, Vitus had to remind himself he was only three years older than them. But Vitus meant what he said, he would make them combat ready. So he pitted them against one another in sparring in order to witness and improve their swordsmanship. However, the only weapons he had on hand were genuine _gladii_ , the sudden arrival of the two and the mission he was on did not allow Vitus to procure training weapons.

They needed to know the feeling of wielding real steel, to feel the weight and sharpness of the weapon, to know that every swing should not be taken for granted, as if the weapon was made of wood. And if they received wounds from their training, then they ought to learn from their mistakes in the future.

There have been close calls, though. Once, Domitius thrusted his _gladius_ into Labienus and it did puncture the armor around his stomach, yet Domitius exercised control and had used half strength. The tip of the blade broke the skin of Labienus and only drew a drop of blood. Domitius was horrified and Labienus was furious, not at Domitius, but at himself to have dropped his guard and be stabbed as a result. He told Domitius to harden his nerves and try again, determined not to get wounded again. These two had personalities as different from one another as night and day.

Domitius held a more conserved nature, while Labienus' nature was that of fire. Labienus loved profanity, Domitius rarely uttered a curse and only did so if he hurt himself by accident. They both were roughly the same height, yet Labienus was the more athletically fit of the two. He had muscles on him that were more defined than Domitius' body and would overpower Domitius in wrestling with ease. Despite this physical attribute, in terms of swordsmanship, Domitius was clearly the better fighter in swordsmanship. It wasn't in accord for Labienus' poor ability, Labienus was quite skilled. But Domitius emphasized sharp defenses with energy-efficient movement whilst on the defensive. When Labienus used quick attacks, Domitius would defend with using his sword with one hand; and when Labienus put more weight into his heavy swings, Domitius instantly used both of his hands to put more weight behind his blocking. He was a natural swordsman. However, within tactics, Labienus was the better strategist.

As they played the board game of latrunculi, Vitus noticed that Labienus played aggressively and Domitus more cautiously. Yet Labienus was bold without being reckless. He pressed hard the moment he saw opportunity and did not relent. Such aggressiveness won battles. Out of their ten games that Vitus had witnessed, Labienus had bested Domitius eight times.

Both of these young men were perfectionist. They craved excellence in everything they accomplished. Such desire led to a natural rivalry between the two, nothing antagonistic, but a healthy and friendly feud that bolstered the strengths of youths.

Labienus rose to his feet, caressing the growing red welt on his thigh. Both boys had reset into their sparring positions. Labienus was breathing hard, gritting his teeth in anger. He sprang off his feet and charged, bellowing like a demonic goat and swung wildly. Domitius dipped lowed and struck Labienus' sternum with the pommel of the sword. Labienus buckled backwards with a pained grunt, Domitius held his ground, confident in his defense. Labienus lunged his sword towards Domitius sternum, but Domitius sidestepped and smacked Labienus hard on his back with the flat side of the sword. Using the blow he received as momentum, Labienus spun suddenly and swung his sword with impressive speed. The move _nearly_ caught Domitius off guard, he just barely raised his sword and absorbed the full blow. The move made Domitius stumble, Labienus pressed his attack with a yell. But Domitius recovered with quickness and dashed inside Labienus' guard, firmly placing the tip of the sword against Labienus' stomach. Labienus had stopped at once, realizing he lost this round.

"Second point, to Domitius," Vitus announced. "Domitius! I'm glad you followed my instructions in utilizing the whole sword as a weapon, nice pommel strike. And good use of speed to get inside your opponent's guard."

Domitius beamed, "Gratitude for your words, sir!"

Vitus turned to the defeated lad, "Labienus! You charge as if a rabid animal. Alerting your opponent to your anticipated attacks. Are you a wild barbarian or a proper Roman?"

"I'm a Roman," he panted, on his knees with hands on hip.

"What?!"

"I'm a proper Roman, **sir**!" he said louder.

"Then rise to your feet as a Roman and take position again! Remember, control your striking. It's a sword, not a meat cleaver, it's primarily meant for stabs and thrusts. Exercise patience, not wrath."

"Yes, sir."

Domitius approached Labienus with open arms, "If I may offer suggestion, Labienus?"

"Oh, by _all_ means, offer away, Achilles. Let me bask in your knowledge of your swordsmanship!"

"Hey, Labienus! No one tolerates a sore loser," Vitus snapped. "Not your parents, not your peers, not your soldiers, and not the Senate. Stow that attitude."

He sighed in contempt, but nodded his head genuinely, "Yes, sir. I apologize."

"Good, now continue, both of you."

Gnaeus Domitius took a firm defensive stance and steadied his sword. Labienus took an aggressive stance and moved forward with controlled thrusts towards Domitius torso. Domitius sidestepped and deflected the thrusts and countered with a lunge; however, Labienus was able to do a riposte with his blade and brought the sword over Domitius' head. Domitius was quick in his recovery with a skyward block, followed by a parry which placed the edge of his gladius directly underneath Labienus' Adam's apple.

"Domitius has scored a third consecutive victory today, he stands Victor," Vitus announced.

Domitius smiled easily, as did the marines and sailors who placed wages on him.

"This is infuriating!" Labienus suddenly growled in defeat. Drops of sweating were cascading from his head and unto the deck. "How is it that I am stronger than him in all regard, **except** the sword?! It makes no sense!"

Vitus sighed. He understood that Labienus' frustration was growing and could see why.

"You are improving, Labienus, you are. But you use too much unnecessary movement. Simple and precise moves will do the trick. That is why you are winded and Domitius is not, you're usually moving all over the place while he conserves his strength. Why waste energy and precious seconds hacking and chopping, while you can use a simple thrust to end it all."

"I… I shall remember that."

"Good. See that you do. We fight not to win individual glory, but to protect our men. We fight cohesively to conserve stamina. We can outfight and outlast any warrior on the planet, be they barbarians or Spartans. But we rely on patience, Labienus."

The young man nodded, seemingly the words Vitus had preached had reached his head. He was still visibly frustrated, but he seemed to be learning from his shortcomings.

Domitius scooped up a cup of water from a barrel and drank it ravenously. He then asked, "Germanicus, if I may ask, how old were you when you first received training?"

"Oooooooooh… good question… I believe I was around eleven when I first wielded a sword?"

"So young…" Domitius mentioned with enlarged eyes. "For what purpose did you train at that age?"

Vitus looked out unto the sea, "Do you two have any brothers?"

"No," Labienus replied.

"Two," Domitius answered.

Vitus didn't turn around, "Are you the elder, the middle, or the younger?"

"The elder. Lucius is in his fourteenth year and Titus is in his eleventh."

"Many pressures are put on you as the elder, are they not?"

"Yes… they are. My father desires me to be Consul one day."

Vitus nodded his head, "A noble aspiration. One that many fathers wish upon their sons."

"Do you have a brother, Germanicus?" Labienus asked.

Vitus turned around with a smirk, "I do. His name is Proculus, my elder by five years. He was everything my father wanted him to be. He was tall and strong, and beautiful, like Mars molded into mortal flesh. He had the look and tongue of a leader; he commands a great air of _dignitas_ around him. He had the making of a future Consul of the Republic."

Domitius lowered his head and raised his eyebrow, " 'Had'?"

"Well, he still does. My father was grooming him to be his successor of the _Legio XXVIII_ , he placed many pressures on my brother. And I believe, that such pressures caused too much strain. Proculus became a hedonist. He drank to excess and whored to excess in his youth, ultimately disgusting my father. And after that, he turned his attentions on me, his second son. My brother fell to the corruptions of vice around his eighteenth year, so my father decided to groom me at a younger age."

"And he drilled you everything?" Labienus asked. Both of the sixteen-year olds were getting closer.

"Everything. Be it sword, spear, or bow, my father made me train. He even trained me on the sling at on instance. He desired my brother and I to be the best at everything, to be generals that would surpass him. And once my brother had failed in that endeavor, my father dedicated morsel of training upon me. Endless hours I endured in the baking sun or the rigid wind. I rode my horse for so long my thighs chafed as if they were made of leather and I walked bow-legged for weeks." He showed them his palms, "I held the sword and _pila_ for so long I developed bloody blisters in my hands."

"Where did you get that scar on your palm?" Domitius asked, pointing to the old horizontal wound on his hand.

 _Biua…_ he remembered. _It was so cold that day…_ "I received that from the daughter of a Germanic chieftain."

"Wait, a woman did that? How?" Labienus asked perplexedly.

"She did, she was quite skilled in the sword. And she nearly killed me. She stole my dagger from me and had my own blade placed against my neck, right here," he pointed at the location on his flesh. "But I resolved that I would not die that day, and I grabbed my dagger from her hand and yanked it from her. I yet recall the razor agony of the dagger biting into my hand, how it stung so bitterly, especially with the freezing frost in the air."

"You grabbed your own dagger?!" both of the boys remarked.

He nodded, "I did. She would have killed me if I did not. You see, Labienus, Domitius, training is not only for you to be skilled in combat, but it mentally and emotionally molds you to be the best you can be. That under any adversity you encounter, you shall have the burning resolve to overcome it. No sacrifice is to great, as long as you have the will to live."

"H-How old were you when you did that?"

Vitus smiled, "I was sixteen." Both boys gasped softly.

Vitus continued, "From the training of my father, a Thracian Aristocrat, and my father's soldiers, I was able to survive a most wretched campaign at that age. I fought against a Germanic champion wearing Roman armor, who I felled with the help of three other men. I have slain the chieftain's daughter who came for me, I have put many barbarians to grass with my own hands that are too numerous to count, and I have even crossed swords with the Briton King, Lugotorix." Vitus exhaled in remembrance, his mind drifting to all those events, and ending on the image of that man… the man he promised he would defeat if they ever met each other in battle. "You two, I take training seriously, for what good is a sharpened weapon if the wielder himself is dull. We all have a destiny in this world, I shall prepare myself the best way I can in order to meet it. I shall not fall prematurely in the face of my destiny. Shall you two?"

Both youths stared at Germanicus in awe, their jaws ready to hit the deck.

Vitus modestly chuckled, "Apologies, I ramble when I reflect on the past. Listen, you both have ambitions that can be reached by zeal and skill. You have the zeal, now here comes the skill. Continue your training."

"Yes, **sir**!" they said as one.

The young men clanged their weapons at one another in respect and took their starting positions.

"I would be cautious if I were you," Rupilius muttered as he approached his legate from behind, "It would not do you well to place these young men in harm's way."

"Then why did they join the military?"

Rupilius just chuckled then ate his plum in a grinning delight.

"Rupilius, have you seen, Lupus?"

"The Scipio? I believe he shelters himself below deck. For what purpose do you seek him?"

"I desire to speak to him upon Athens and our mission. Keep watch over those two, I shall see him now."

* * *

Vitus walked his way down to the opening of the ladder that led below deck. He came down the hull and was greeted with the unwelcome sight of Lupus thrusting into his woman, Suba, his testicles slamming into her backside, and her loud moaning echoing off the wooden compartment.

Vitus sharply recoiled, "Oh Gods! Can you stop that?!"

"What?" he panted with a deeper thrust into Suba. "I'm almost there! Al-Almost—! Just wait a—"

Vitus scurried back up to the deck before Lupus could finish, his cheeks were blushing, and his eyes were strained. Several of the sailors were laughing. He gave them a glare, but they still continued.

Two minutes passed before he heard from below, "Germanicus, are you up there?"

"I am," he said, annoyance was evident in his tone.

"Come back down."

"Are you done?"

"I am, come on down."

"I swear to all the Gods that if you're still lying with her—"

He came down the stairs and was greeted by Suba and Lupus, both clothed and enjoying a cup of wine. The cabin stunk of their lovemaking and both of them were covered in sweat and wore the expression of bliss on their face. Lupus' body slave had a towel and was sensually wiping his master and his woman down. Suba smiled at the reddening Vitus, "My offer still stands if you choose to lie with me."

"Do you offer any other words than sex?"

"Hey! I would have you know that I offer advice, and, uh… my sword… and witty retorts!" she beamed.

Lupus kissed her on the cheek, "Isn't she perfect, Germanicus?"

"Apparently the perfect woman for **you** to bury yourself in…"

"If you are horny, then you should have brought your wife along to keep you company," she told him.

"I shall not subject her to this dangerous mission, which **your** man does not seem to have a care for."

"I do care." Lupus declared. "These men need to be stopped. But we can't do that now at **this** exact moment, so why not enjoy life's pleasures." He smiled and smacked Suba's dark posterior. She yelped in surprise and then giggled.

Suba kissed Lupus' cheeks and said, "There are pleasures in this life that we can indulge for later, my sweet. But I shall go on the deck and leave you two to your business."

"What is the matter you desire to break words over, Germanicus?" Lupus asked.

"Athens. Do they know we are arriving?"

"They do not."

"Shouldn't we have sent word?"

"To what end? They'd believe such message a jest, most like. Conjure this in your mind, Germanicus. If you're resting in Arretium and you received a letter that a Scipii fleet carrying a Brutii legion was sailing in your ports on a delicate mission to enter your city in search of a shadowy organization, would you believe such a tale?"

He sighed, "Okay, you have me there."

"Exactly. I believe it best that we tell them upon arrival."

"Hmm."

"Have you ever been to Greece before?"

"No."

"I have. Several times. To the once great city-states that ruled the known world, until Rome came and conquered them. These cities are massive and could nearly rival Rome in size, yet not in splendor. Hundreds of thousands reside in these cities, comprising of Greeks, Romans, Latins, and Macedonians. Men and women of different cultures and tongues intermingled into one body. So, what do you believe the odds are for locating Sulla's gold?"

"You mean, 'the Republic's gold', correct?"

Lupus cracked a short chuckle as he raised his eyebrow, "Sure. 'The Republic's gold'. Yes. How many sesterces do you believe were in those coffers? Do you truly believe that we shall find the original sum still in the chest, untouched?"

Vitus sighed, "Of course not. But Sulla filled the Republican coffers with proscription money. Nearly a year's worth. I do not believe anyone can spend that much in a short amount of time."

"Then obviously you have never been wealthy before. Or waged a war."

"I have waged war before, how do you believe I won the name 'Germanicus'?"

"I mean a war when you lead more than 6,000 men. A war where you must fund thousands of mercenaries, tens of thousands of soldiers, ships, with food and wine to supply them all."

"You still believe that Mithridates is the culprit?"

"It makes sense… who's the biggest threat this far east with an army in the hundreds of thousands? None other than the king who is immune to poison, Mithridates of Pontus. He looks for a pretext to expand his kingdom and if not for Sulla, he would have completely conquered Anatolia and moved on to Greece. And the fact that the Arcani reside in Athens, the same city that Mithridates' agent infiltrated and tricked the Athenians into rebellion, is that not a coincidence as well? And how this Arcani style attack mimicked Mithridates' Vespers in which hundreds of thousands of Romans were murdered, is that a coincidence too? Listen to me, Germanicus, if it's brown, foul to look at out, and it reeks; then it is obviously shit."

Vitus nodded slowly, "Alright then, if Mithridates is the true culprit behind this, then what are we to do? Commit to the war in Pontus?"

"…Well… they could always use more men…"

"I believe so, but that's not our mission, we are here just to investigate and seize the Arcani and their two leaders. We're not even sure that Mithridates is behind this. We need more evidence. And we go off of what Sulla declared about the Arcani, if they are truly fervent of Roman dominance and righteous in our pantheon, then why ally with Rome's enemies?"

Gaius Scipio rubbed his bearded, his eyes thinning suspiciously, "I couldn't say it with Sulla present, else my head mount the spikes in the Forum. But Sulla was lying out his ass. These Arcani were once loyal to the Senate, but because Sulla fucked them so hard, they are willing to violate sacred vows for revenge. Didn't a member of your family, Sertorius, threaten rebellion once Sulla became Dictator?"

Vitus softly sucked on his teeth, "Almost. He was close, yet my uncle persuaded him otherwise."

"Sulla has **many** enemies that would see him dead. And his bloodshed with his bloody proscriptions does not help his cause. And I can believe that his enemies would stop at nothing to see him deposed and deceased."

"I understand, but Sulla truly insisted on the Arcani's belief. Like, he knew what they stood for and what their honor was."

Lupus smiled with narrowed eyes, "I believe you an intelligent man, Julius. Do you _truly_ believe everything that Sulla tells you? That old man knows something crucial about these Arcani assassins, but elects not to divulge vital information? Some senatorial secrets perhaps? Coverups? His greatest failure? And we are the ones cleaning up his mess. What do you suppose that old fuck is hiding, huh?"

A sailor came halfway down the staircase and called, "Apologies, Admiral."

"What is it?" Lupus called up.

"We have arrived off the Port of Piraeus!"

Lupus laughed, sprung up to his feet and roared like a wolf. "Yes! Finally! Light the signal pyres on the ship to the rest of the fleet. They are to form a wedge behind my flagship and follow us into the port."

"Yes, Admiral!"

Vitus could hear the ruckus of dozens of boots running above deck. He sighed to himself, this was it. He followed Lupus above deck and took a look out into the sea. Many miles in the distance, he could see it. The Acropolis of Athens. Standing high on a defined hill above the city. Just like his tutors told him when he was younger. Though it looked like a speck to him, he realized it was only because of the distance, for Athens stood nearly 6 kilometers away from the port-city of Piraeus.

Before the fleet could enter the harbor, Vitus could see the destruction of war upon the port. Hundreds of piers seemed to have once stood at this harbor, yet now it remained in the medium double digits. Brick walls once surrounded the port, but around 95% of the walls were torn down with rock and fire, and the open patches were replaced by wooden palisades. Sulla truly was vengeful upon the Athenians.

"Well what is this?"

Vitus was standing beside Lupus, who pointed at a bireme sailing to them with Brutii sails. The bireme pivoted horizontally to block the entry into the port. Lupus gave his signaler the command to halt, and the signaler yelled below deck to the employed oarsmen to cease their paddling. The signaler also motioned for his trumpeter to blow a loud cadence to have the entire fleet stop sailing.

On the starboard side of the ship, a man in military armor with a Greek helmet walked to the edge and faced the Roman vessel, both the bireme and hexareme were no more than 20 meters apart from one another.

"Halt! I am Heraclides Fluvo," the apparent captain of the bireme called out to the larger ship. "Who is in command of this fleet? And under the name of the Brutii, state your purpose! For what reason do you lead a fleet into this dockyard?"

" _Salve,_ Fluvo. I am Gaius Scipio Lupus, Admiral of the Howling Sails. I request permission to dock in the shipyard of Piraeus."

"Only the sails of Brutii may be allowed to dock."

"You must understand, my mission is of grave importance. I once again ask for permission to dock."

"And I told you to fuck off, Wolf Boy! No Blues may dock in Green territory."

Lupus sighed and laughed in annoyance. "Your name was Heraclides Fluvo, correct?"

"I am."

"Alright, Fluvo. I just sailed an entire week, from Arretium to Athens on the word of His Most Excellence, Dictator Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix. Do you recall who Sulla is, and do you recall his infamous wrath? I am sure everyone in Athens recalls that name. He sent us to speak to the governor of Athens and you shall deny us passage at port? Fine, allow me to sail my ships back to Italia for another week and let me explain to the **Dictator** how a certain Heraclides Fluvo denied us entry unto a port. So, shall I sail back?"

* * *

Within half an hour, most of Lupus' fleet had docked within Piraeus. A vast crowd of Greek and Roman citizens began crowding the shipyard, murmuring among one another at this perplexing sight. The sails were ridden up and the landing board was placed onto the pier. Lupus' body slave was fastening his blue cape to the back of his armor as Suba was fixing his hair to look presentable. The Scipio admiral looked to Vitus, "Ready for the welcoming party?"

Vitus chuckled as he held his helmet at his side and fluffed the plume, "Ready. But let us walk out at the same time, makes a better show of unity."

"Ha! You just don't want to be on the ass-end of a Scipio." His lips curled into a knowing smirk, "Admit it."

"I do, you find problem in that?"

"Not at all, clever move. Fine, let us walk together in 'unity' and allow these Brutii to marvel."

Both men stood side-by-side and placed their helmets on, then walked forward down the plank in unison, standing tall and proud. As they made their way off the pier, the sight that greeted them was an entire maniple worth of Town Watch standing at attention in their green armor. Behind them were the curious crowds of onlookers that consisted of sailors and merchants, but all of them wore the masks of apprehension. The Town Watch parted like a disciplined door, and a man on a horse came through and stopped directly in front of the Julius and Scipio.

On top of a beautiful brown horse was a soldier of clear distinction. An aristocratic Roman. He had a long face that had a near gloomy expression. He had short, curly blond hair, he was bowlegged from riding on his horse quite frequently, had a nose that seemed to be broken several times, and battle scars were on his arm and neck. By a crest fastened to the shoulder, it revealed a white gladius angled downwards over a green field. This man was of the House of the Brutii.

The Brutii looked down on them from on high, "Such is strange. Julii soldiers, upon Scipii sails… landing in a Brutii port. What is the meaning behind this?" the Brutii asked.

"Good evening, I am Legatus Vitus Julius Germanicus of the Twenty-Eighth Legion."

"And I stand Admiral Gaius Scipio Lupus of The Howling Sails. Pardon me for asking, but by Venus' teats, who are you?"

The horseman straightened himself proudly within the saddle, "I am Marcus Brutus Athenicus Equestris, Acting Governor of Athens."

" 'Athenicus?' _Of Athens?_ " Scipio remarked.

"You heard of them?" Vitus asked.

"Faintly, they are the Brutii branch of Southern Greece, specifically Athens."

"Indeed. I come from a minor branch of the Brutii. My branch had the **noble** distinction of fighting bitterly against the Southern Greeks and laying siege to Athens and taking the city within months, and were thus honored with the title 'Athenicus' upon our names."

Brutus' horse galloped closer, his stare lingering downward on them. The Brutus continued, "You have yet to answer **my** question. What are the Julii and Scipii doing in Athens with a legion and a fleet.?"

Lupus placed his hands on his waist, "Can never be too careful, eh? So many men in this world oft to shorten one's life."

Equestris' lips tightened. "So it is true, it happened to your families as well," he said, a hint of anger was in his voice.

"Unfortunately," Vitus replied. "We heard the Brutii were hit the hardest from these attacks."

"That… That we were. Chaos reigns within our provinces. Scores of Brutii dead, Mithridates at our gates, and our Patriarch and Heir dead. Utter madness… So, you two lead investigation over these assassinations?" He scoffed mightily. "What authority do you have?"

"We are under orders from Lucius Cornelius Sulla, Dictator of the Republic. Here, it is his words which bear his seal."

Vitus held out the sealed scrolled, one of the Brutii militiaman reached for it and handed to the quizzical Brutus Equestris.

"Hmm, I have seen him before… and his seal here is genuine."

The Brutii broke the seal and unraveled the document, studying every word with care, occasionally looking up from the paper and at Vitus and Gaius. He made a grunt and rolled the document back up, with an amused smirk. "So what you say bears truth. What is this 'phantom danger' that he spoke about that resides in Athens?"

"A matter better discussed away from unwanted ears, I believe," replied Vitus.

"Preferably over a cup of wine?" Lupus mused with a raised brow.

Equestris chuckled lowly, "Sounds nice. Somewhere private, eh?" He examined the two of them closer, seemingly gauging their faces for deception. "Captain!" Equestris called.

"Yes, governor."

"These soldiers and these ships are on a special diplomatic mission under the authority of the Dictator. They are to be treated as an extension of the Dictator himself. As our army is in Pontus, this legion and its sailors shall be housed in the Urban Barracks. Understood?"

"Understood, governor."

"Well, Julius and Scipio, I extend a welcome to my city. I might as well take you and your men into Athens; you two, however, shall accompany me to a private residence. We must traverse the Long Walls, it ranges for several miles, though."

"I am used to marching," Vitus smirked.

Equestris chuckled. He ordered the Town Watch into an about face and began the march back to Athens. Not to be outdone, Vitus ordered the disembarking legionaries into marching formation and proceeded to follow the Brutii forces. Through the gates of Piraeus, the Legion followed the Town Watch through the battered Long Walls of Athens, a pair of walls that extended for **miles** and looped around Piraeus and Athens to connect the city to the port.

The Long Walls were a part of Athenian strategy against siege warfare. Back in the Golden Age of Athens, the strongest attribute that Athens had was its fearsome navy. With walls that surrounded both the city **and** its port, especially a port defended by one of the strongest navies in history, Athens was virtually untouchable. They could not be starved out by land armies since their ships could resupply the city by sea

It was their first and greatest line of defense for the Athenians, but Sulla had proved that it was ultimately fruitless to defend itself against Rome.

In this day and age, Athens was only a feeble shadow of what it used to be, it had no Navy and its army was weak and pathetic. So, Sulla and his friend and second-in-command, Luculls, simply raised two separate sieges, one army besieged Piraeus and the other besieged Athens. How did he besiege both? He knocked the walls down around Piraeus with sappers and onagers. With the port besieged, Athens starved to the point where it was said that the great philosophers had to eat the leather of their shoes and the hair on their own beards to sustain themselves. After five months of a siege, Sulla sacked both port and cities and slaughtered many Greek, fully emphasizing that the glory of Athens was a memory and bedtime tales for children.

Passing by the Long Walls now was evident of such destruction. "These walls are in disarray, are they not to be rebuilt?" Lupus asked.

Equestris shook his head, "After Sulla retook the city, he demanded for us that the Long Walls shall never be rebuilt. They are to remain desolate as a reminder to the Athenians that they may no longer hide behind their walls. But in case of attack, the walls around Athens itself have been rebuilt for the protection of the city. But the Long Walls that lead to the port are to remain unfixed."

"Sulla's wrath is truly frightening, eh?" Vitus said.

"It is. To the shame of the Brutii… we were ousted by Pontian infiltrators and some of my family were put to death by the rebels, all in name of 'Greek Freedom'… make no mistake Julius and Scipio, Sulla's methods are brutal, but he saved us from the Greeks and Mithridates, so we are loyal to the man!"

"Hmm, of course, Brutus," Scipio groaned.

"Where will you take us?" Vitus asked.

"I'll escort you two and some of your retinue to my estate for where the governors reside. Best way to keep you both safe and away from prying ears. And know this, you may not receive this very prestigious offer."

* * *

The three aristocratic Romans entered the Governor's Palace of Athens that was located near the Acropolis of Athens. Equestris extended them privacy at the atrium as he went to speak with his wife and slaves. The layout of the Governor's Palace was a distinguishing mix of Roman and Greek architecture. The Palace exterior was made in a Greek design with Athenian marble and mirrored the outlook of a Greek temple. Yet inside was a distinctive Roman aesthetic with a triclinium, deities within the Roman design, and busts of prominent Brutii stationed within the area.

Lupus was chuckling to himself, and Vitus asked him what was so funny.

"Did you catch the name, 'Equestris'?"

"Yeah, it means ' _mounted'_. Odd, isn't it? I recall that name in passing of the commanders of the Brutii forces. Allegedly, the one who bears the name 'Equestris' is a superb cavalryman and scout, able to ride as if they were Alexander of Macedon."

"He's a great horseman, huh? Hmm… do you believe he fucks his horses?"

"You're named after a wolf… do you fuck wolves?"

"Well, Suba does howl when I'm with her, so…"

Vitus rolled his eyes, _Of all the men to be assigned with…_

Six slaves of both sexes presented themselves in the corridor and stood parallel of one another. Brutus Equestris entered alongside with a young woman who carried a toddler in her arms. He had shed his armor in favor of a prestigiously magnificent green tunic with gold inlaid in the seams of the fabric.

He extended his arms out, "Julius Germanicus and Scipio Lupus, welcome to our home. This is my son, Marcus. He's two. Wave to the nice men, Marcus."

The toddler didn't smile but held his hand out to mimic waving with large curious eyes upon the strangers. It was rather adorable for Vitus, he reminded him of his nephew at that age.

"And this is my wife, Servilia."

She did a subtle curtsy to the them and gave a polite smile. She was of average height but was rather plump, yet still had an air of grace around her. She had black hair and a cute nose that accented her face.

"It is truly a momentous occasion to have a Julius and a Scipio enter our abode," she smiled warmly.

"Gratitude, for hosting us in our sudden arrival." Vitus politely nodded.

"I extend gratitude as well, we shall be honored guest in your house," Lupus added on politely.

"Please make yourself comfortable and I shall have the slaves prepare you a meal, but I regret that I may not be a part of your meal." She lowered her head in respect and excused herself out of the triclinium with the toddler, leaving only the men present with the slaves.

"I must say, your wife masks her contempt for us well," Lupus mused.

"Indeed, the gesture of politeness is appreciated," Vitus added, "but we all know the true feelings of the two of you."

"Formalities are always necessary for friends, and foes, of the most prestigious families," Brutus smiled, somewhat smugly. "But you cannot blame her. She, as well as I, did not expect our home to be visited by a Julius and a Scipio today. You are only here so that I may speak to you in confidence."

"Here? In your home and not in a tavern?" Lupus questioned.

"This place is secure, and we are away from wandering and prying eyes, especially from the citizens and other prominent officials."

The slaves brought out the goblets of wine that were mixed with water, presenting them to the three men. Each one took the goblet and drank steadily, a strong sign of confidence and a social grace uttered among equals.

Equestris exhaled after drinking, "So, let us reach for these questions."

"Oh, allow me," Lupus smiled. "So… 'Equestris' for _mounted horseman_. Quite a bizarre name."

The Brutii raised a single eyebrow with a grim expression, "This coming from a man named 'Lupus', eh?"

Vitus smirked, "Told you."

Equestris continued, "I came by the name for my love of horses." Lupus quickly raised his eyebrow in an "I told you so" motion towards Vitus. Vitus was fighting back an immature chuckle. The Brutii kept talking, "I love to ride. The feeling of the wind as it caresses your face, the sun that kisses your cheeks, the way your mount pounds the ground in strides as you reach a speed impossible to attain by Man of a natural nature. I have been known as "The Green Centaur" for I have been known to ride with grace that it looks natural, as if I was a centaur myself. When I gallop on my steeds, I feel… alive."

Lupus blinked incredulously, "Amazing! That's how I feel when I ride the sea in my ships! The breeze in your face, the warm sun, the way the ship rocks. Everything! You understand! Germanicus, he actually understands! And here I thought he had that name for he was a freak who fucked horses! But no, he understands! He understands!"

"Wait, what did you jus—"

"You do understand!" Lupus continued excitedly. "Everyone labels me bizarre for my fascination, but you understand what it means to be one with something that's not human! To meet a kindred spirit, in the form of a Brutus in all things. Outstanding!"

"I see, but allow us to hold a moment… did you say I 'fucked horses'?"

Vitus forced a laugh that was more awkward than he realized, "Ignore him, Equestris, please. He's a Scipio, foolishness falls from lips like rain from the sky."

Brutus' face was turning red, "How can I ignore such a comment! I invite you two into my home and you dare debase me in front of my slaves?! The balls on you, Scipio! To comment that I lie with animals, and to my face no less?! You must be quite the animal yourself with your unkempt hair and ridiculous beard, how many mangy mongrels do you rut with on that ship of yours, you feral fuck!"

Lupus only laughed. He looked at Vitus while pointing at Equestris, "This is a Brutus is all right. Prim and Proud. I'm really beginning to like him, though." He turned back to the fuming host, "I offer sincere apologies. Julius Germanicus is correct. I am a Scipio; we are a proud bunch and shit spews from tongue without a spigot. Look upon my appearance, do I truly seem like a man who thinks before they speak? You have invited us into your home, and I have dishonored you, for that I offer sincerest apologies, Brutus Equestris. My question was rude, and my comments were worst. A thousand pardons and a request for forgiveness, I offer you."

Equestris supped on his wine for a moment, studying the sincerity on the Scipio's face. He looked back to Vitus, then back to Gaius.

He sighed, "The reason you are in my home is because of news of these assassinations. Pray I find your words appeasing or you saw be one with your parted kin."

Vitus kept on his stoic expression, but internally, was truly contemplating whether this Brutus Equestris would actually have them killed, and will he himself have to fight out of this situation?

Germanicus sat up in his chair and leaned in, "Dismiss your slaves. This is a matter of confidentiality."

Equestris examined Germanicus' eyes, then relented. He told his slaves to leave, and they exited quickly with a bow. Likewise, Germanicus and Lupus dismissed their retinue to outside the triclinium. The three men were now alone.

"So, it seems you two are privy to some knowledge. What do you know about these masked assassins?" the Brutus asked them.

"Heard of the Arcani?" Vitus Julius whispered.

Marcus Brutus' eyes narrowed, "No, should I have?"

"You shouldn't. If you did, then you would be dead," Gaius Scipio mentioned.

"Well, I guess it is this Arcani that tried to kill me even without my knowledge of them. What exactly are they?"

Vitus entwined his hands together, "An extremist cult devoted to Jupiter. They believe they are his divine scourge upon the enemies of the Republic."

Marcus' face contorted; he began to growl from his teeth. "Fanatics… my entire kin were attacked by damn fanatics?"

Gaius said, " **All** of our kin were attacked by these men… though not even fanatics could be as coordinated as they were upon a single night."

"These stand no ordinary fanatics," Vitus continued. "For over a hundred years, they were once the personal assassins of the Senate, dispatch to silence all enemies of the Republic."

Marcus looked to Gaius, who nodded in agreement. "The Senate had professional assassins, for over a century?" Marcus asked.

"They did. Truth of the matter is that they did not start out as such. My ancestor, Scipio Africanus, formed them to help combat Hannibal. But the Scipii apparently figured their purpose was more of intrigue than warfare, and they gave them to the Senate to seek favor and political position. I was surprised when I found out about this myself."

"But… why Greece?"

Vitus Julius rubbed his jaw, "We're not completely sure, but we believe that Italia is too close to Rome and its legions. The next logical civilization that exists which seconds Rome and is quite distant would be Greece, where their organization could hide from within."

Gaius Scipio chuckled, "Perhaps because Greece is so magnificent in its culture and history. Especially Athens. I adore Athens. Many great men were born, resided, and were taught here. Themistocles, Aristotle, Pericles, Alexander of Macedon, Themistocles, Sophocles, Herodotus, Miltiades, Themistocles—"

"You said 'Themistocles' thrice…" Vitus said with a half-hearted grin.

He gave them a toothy smile, "I adore Themistocles!"

Equestris smirked. " _Then your Greek must be fantastic, correct?_ " he said in the Greek tongue.

Lupus laughed, " _Oh I can assure you that my Greek is better than yours_!"

" _Your accent is rather remarkable. You sound like a genuine Athenian!"_

" _Well, the Scipii never accept anything substandard, we hire the best tutors. I can you give a Spartan accent if you please, or perhaps one that originates in Corinth?"_ his accent changing on the spot.

"Hmm," Equestris was rubbing his chin in contemplation. His next accent sound Greek, but it had its own distinction, " _What of an accent from Macedon_?"

"Ohhh," Lupus laughed, rubbing his hands. " _Especially a Macedonian accent_!"

Both men chuckled. Equestris then turned to Vitus and smiled smugly, " _What of you, Julius? How is your Greek, is it as proper as ours?_ "

Germanicus laughed uneasily, but then his eyes became alert and he uttered in the foreign tongue, " _Well, it's true, us Julii do not need Greek as much as your Families in the East. But it is still a necessity for us to learn._ " Vitus fully smiled and said in Latin. "But if I must be honest, _my Germanian needs work, but I can hold a conversation,_ " he finished in his Germanic tongue.

All three of them shared a laugh. Vitus could breathe easier, it seemed as if Equestris was calming down and forgetting about Lupus' earlier comment. He was actually lightening up.

Lupus then asked, "So, how is the second war with Mithridates going?"

Marcus Brutus groaned with a shake of his head. "Poorly. We were fortunate that Sulla was with us during the First War, though few Brutii would admit it, I can swallow my pride. Now that he returned his legions back to Rome, Mithridates assembled a new army and they have been scoring victories within the East and are slowly beating us out of Pontus, as he seeks to steal Armenia and Bithynia. All because of that fool Murena, he attacked Mithridates hungry for glory and he was promptly defeated… Mithridates was beaten like a dog, and since he bested Rome, such an action revitalized his people and encouraged them to continue their conquest. The Pontic king's next move seems to be the city of Halicarnassus, and with his momentum, he just may take it."

"And what of Lucullus?" Vitus questioned.

"The only general that has a brain this far east. At last report, he scored a victory against one of Mithridates' captains, Lucullus had two legions against 15,000 Pontians. We need more victories like this, but Pontus has an abundance of manpower that we can't seem to match over here in the east. Most of the Brutii are serving under Lucullus with their personal legions."

"So, if most of the Brutii are fighting him, then why are you here?"

"My men have been in the campaign for so long, they need to rest and refit. And I need to gather more men as well. Also, the Greeks having been rebellious as of late. It wasn't too long when the Athenians had rebelled against us…"

"If manpower proves problematic, then why not swell your ranks with hired swords?" Vitus asked.

"That was our first thought, but strangely for the past few months, we are unable to purchase any group of mercenaries. They all have been bought up by someone."

"Who?"

"We do not know. We assumed it was Mithridates who purchased their services, but upon battle with him, reports dictated his forces did not contain a trace of mercenaries. They were all hired by someone and seemingly vanished."

"All the mercenaries in Greece and Anatolia, have vanished?" Lupus grumbled.

"Apparently."

Lupus scratched his beard and looked over to Vitus, "That would take substantial amount of coin to do so."

"Quite."

Marcus cleared his throat softly, "Back to the business at hand, Sulla sent you two to go after these Arcani?"

"He did. I believe we are the few men he can trust. Well, on short notice anyway…" Lupus shrugged.

"Indeed, I believe he would have called on Lucullus to aid in this matter if he wasn't busy fighting Mithridates."

"Also, it's personal for us."

Marcus raised his head, "It is?"

"Yes." Vitus affirmed. "Masked men. All in black. I was with my brother and our wives when it happened. Four of them came in the night to kill us in the Governor's Palace in Genua. My brother was wounded, as was I; but we killed all four of them. Yet they had killed the governor of the settlement we were residing in. When I returned to Arretium, I had learned that the Arcani had butchered my cousin, Statius, and left my uncle inconsolable in the loss of his only child."

Gaius bared his teeth, "I had emerged from a drawn bath in Syracuse that night, when those cowards ambushed me. Two of them. Can you believe the cock on those fuckers?! But I fought them off and knocked out one whilst my woman, Suba, killed the other. I interrogated the one I knocked out and we received most of the information upon the Arcani from that man."

"And where is he now?" Marcus asked.

"In the hands of Sulla."

A smile curled on Marcus' face, "May the Gods have mercy on that man to be in the hands— no! He deserves no mercy; Gods are good that the filth is rotting in Sulla's hands."

Vitus finished his drink, "We never asked, but how did you survive the night?"

"I was fortunate in surviving their attack. I had just tucked my son into bed and had joined my wife for the night. As we were…" he looked at the two, a mild blush was on his cheek, "…coupling, the slaves were fanning us off to ward off the midnight humidity. In mid-coitus, one of the slaves shrieked and called out a snake. My wife is terrified of such creatures and screamed as well, sighting the reptile on our bed, half a meter away from our legs. It was a long, venomous viper and it was rising high; I swear I thought I heard it screech. Fortunately, it didn't lunge at us, not even when my wife and I rolled sideways off the bed in panic. I recovered and threw the sheets over the reptile and bundled it up, Servilia was white with terror.

"Near the entrance of the bedchamber, I saw a dark flash of a blackened figure running. I called out to him and chased him, absent weapons or clothing. I made a dash past the corner and I saw the figure suddenly spin with a drawn sword aimed at my neck. My reflexes saved me, and I ducked the slash. He then started attacking me, I got close to his guard and disarmed him. He then started punching and kicking me with great force, that bastard must have been a professional fighter, he hits hard. The guards came and the assassin pushed me off of him and he ran out of the Palace."

Vitus and Gaius took it in solemnly. Gaius spoke, "You are fortunate that you and your wife yet draw breath."

"I know, and then to later hear that nearly all of my family had been attacked, and so many have been killed, wounded, or maimed…"

"We both know that feeling, Equestris," said Vitus. "And know that we are here to exact swift vengeance upon these assassins."

"You do not stand alone in such regard. I shall allow you two to search my city for these vermin."

"Gratitude, Equestris. Be assured, we shall not linger long in the city. We are to search Athens and Piraeus and the surrounding area to capture these criminals."

" 'Surrounding areas'?"

"Odds are, after a week or so after their attack, they most likely may have fled to the outskirts of Greece."

"And if they have, then the two of us shall track them down to the ends of the earth," Lupus affirmed proudly.

Brutus grunted. He studied the faces of his guest. "Not two, but three."

"What?"

"Three. I didn't finish earlier. I shall allow your men to search within Athens, but on the sole condition that I accompany you on your travels."

Both men nearly gasped aloud, "You seek to join us?" Vitus asked.

Marcus Brutus rose to his feet, and walked around the triclinium, "Julius, Scipio, the Arcani were in my home. In my home they sought to end my life and that of my wife. They slipped a venomous creature to end our lives in the midst of our love. They didn't even have the stones to charge in with swords drawn to properly kill me, but had to use intrigue and shadows. They thought they had a kitten in their midst, but realized they ambushed a lion. I desire vengeance as much as you two."

Lupus smirked, "What can you offer our forces, beside yourself? I have my fleet, whilst Julius has a legion."

"I am in command of a cavalry force 2,000 strong that is a coalition of men from Rome, Macedonia, Thrace, Scythia and even Parthia. 700 of which are light cavalry, 800 of which are heavy cavalry, and 500 are missile cavalry. Currently I only have 500 of my light cavalry here in Athens, the rest are in the city of Thermos in the Aetolia region. If you desire outriders to scout the lands, then you'll need my cavalry." Brutus began to smile, "So, what do you say?"

Scipio slammed his cup on the table and chuckled, "And so our forces grow. I accept, Marcus Brutus."

Julius smiled as well, "As do I, welcome to our inquisition."

All three were now standing up. Brutus looked at them with a smug smile, "And do note, this does not make us friends, I am only allied with you two to fend off this menace."

"Oh, as am I, I made that clear with Julius," Scipio roared with laughter.

"Well, comrades do not necessarily need to like one another, but they must get along professionally," Vitus explained with a reserved grin.

"Comrades, eh?" Brutus chuckled, then shrugged. "All right, I can drink to that." He ordered the slaves back in to refill their cups. Once filled, he shot his wine cup out and cheered, "To new comrades, the Julii and the Scipii."

"To new comrades, the Julii and the Brutii," Scipio shot his wine cup out and cheered.

"To new comrades, the Brutii and the Scipii," Julius shot his wine cup out and cheered.

The three drank their wine. Scipio studied Brutus, "You seem young like us, how old are you, Marcus Brutus?"

"I'm in my 21st year."

Scipio nodded, "Interesting, I am 22. Vitus, how old did you say you were?"

Julius looked off to the side, "I am turning 20 in a week."

"Look at us, young men out to save the Republic. What songs they shall write about us?"

"Songs of triumph over this mystic evil."

* * *

 **And now the Brutii join the fray.**

 **BTW, the game that Labienus and Domitius were playing is called "l** **udus latrunculorum/** **latrunculi /** **latrones" (it had many different names)** **. It's pretty much a strategy board game that is similar to modern chess and/or checkers. It was very popular in ancient Rome and used to determine military stratagem of players in whoever could seize the most territories or pieces.  
**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **-Kanuro5**


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